


Xanthous

by orphan_account



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Explicit Language, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:36:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 55,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ORIGINALLY POSTED IN 2009 - What do you get when you mix a cross dressing Allen Walker, friends anxious about your relationship status, terrorist organizations, hackers, and a dash of piano playing? Heck if Kanda knows, but he sure intends on getting to the bottom of this. **NOT A NEW STORY. This is being edited and reposted from another site in preparation for a sequel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh, Yuu, this is going to be so good for you!" the old man gushed from the front seat of the small car. "You haven't seen Daisya in years!" His eyes were glued to the scowling young man in the back seat of the car.

"Keep your damn eyes on the road, dumbass!" the man in question ground out, arms crossed over his chest and glaring out the window. Why his adoptive father –  _adoptive_ , mind you, they were _not_ genetically related – wanted to go out to eat to celebrate his older adoptive brother's homecoming from university was beyond him. And he still didn't see why he had to go. The old fart had gushed something about family togetherness, but he hadn't been paying attention.

"We really _haven't_  seen him in a couple years, Kanda," the other occupant of the car said truthfully. Noise Marie – the other adopted brother of Tiedoll's dysfunctional family unit – was around Kanda's age, and ever the pragmatist.

"I don't care," Kanda snapped back. "And why do we have to go to some restaurant on the other side of town?" He hadn't wanted to go out to eat. He didn't like going out in public to eat - particularly at restaurants that encouraged overeating with huge portions and obnoxiously fattening dishes. Not to mention the restaurant wasn't Japanese, so he doubted that they served soba. 

"Oh, come on, Yuu, this is one of my favorite restaurants!" Tiedoll crowed happily. "You're going to love it!"

A dark "Hmph," was the only answer he got.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence – at least, it was uncomfortable for Kanda – they pulled into a parking lot that was about three-quarters full. They found a parking spot and then got out of the car, making their way towards the entrance. Kanda rolled his eyes when he saw the looks of the place – it was obviously a sports bar, where the waitresses were forced into mini skirts and t-shirts that were two sizes too small. Somehow, he didn't think the paternal Tiedoll knew where he was.

The three of them made their way into the restaurant and were immediately attacked by a very energetic Daisya. "Yo, Pops!" he said, slapping the old man on the back a few times. "Nice to see ya, again! Marie too – and, holy flying fuck! You got  _Kanda_ to come?!"

"All my children have such bad language," Tiedoll said mournfully, pouting a bit. But his expression soon changed into one of confusion as he looked around. "Wait…where is this place? I don't remember it ever being this full of men … or" – he flushed a bit – "scantily clad waitresses."

"Best place ya ever took us to," Daisya said with a wink before going up to the blonde hostess and securing them a table.

"Wait, I don't think this is the right restaurant!" Tiedoll said, looking around to see if he could procure some help. He walked up to a brunette woman in the black and hot pink uniform. "Um, excuse me, miss, but do you know what happened to Buddy's?"

The brunette – whose nametag read "Hi, I'm Amber and I Can't  _Wait_ to Take  _Your_  Order!" – smiled at him indulgingly. "Oh, that place closed down a couple years ago!" she said happily. "Our manager bought the place and spruced it up a bit!"

"What a pity!" Tiedoll said, looking truly hurt. "They had the best hot wings I've ever tasted… "

"Oh, don't worry about that, sir!" Amber said, giggling. He rolled his eyes; the flirtation was wasted on Tiedoll, though he knew she was likely only being charming for tips. Tiedoll wouldn't take advantage of a girl if his life depended on it, especially not one young enough to be his granddaughter. "Our hot wings are top notch!" 

"I'm sure they are," Daisya said, currently staring at Amber's assets. If he was drooling any more, they'd need to go get a bucket.

"Can we just have our table now?" Kanda snapped. Amber's smile faltered a bit, but she quickly grabbed a few menus and sets of silverware before leading them through the loud, testosterone-laced front room to one of the slightly quieter side rooms.

"Here you are!" Amber said cheerfully. "Your waitress will be out in a minute!"

"Oh, it's not you?" Daisya asked, sounding sincerely disappointed.

"Sorry, but I'm just the hostess!" Amber said happily before moving away, Daisya's eyes glued to her ass until she was out of viewing distance.

"Could you be any hornier?" Kanda demanded, glaring across the table at the slightly older man.

"Could you be any nicer?" Daisya asked back, smirking. When Kanda didn't answer, the smirk deepened. "There ya go."

"Well, I suppose this place isn't … too … bad," Tiedoll allowed, looking around. The walls were made of paneled wood and the floor was basically cement, littered with peanut shells and cigarette butts. You could practically smell the alcohol in the air and the TV's fixed to the corners of the room were playing nothing but sports.

"Maybe if you're a middle-aged man who enjoys looking at women in tiny cheerleading outfits because he can't get any at home," Kanda said flatly, glaring down at the menu. He wasn't even going to open it – he sincerely doubted there was anything worth eating at this kind of an establishment. "I sincerely doubt it got its reputation for food."

"To look at women in tiny cheerleading outfits," Daisya said bluntly, his eyes following a certain busty girl's chest.

"Seriously, shut up," Kanda replied.

"Or what?" the older man said tauntingly.

"Or I'll set  _make_ you shut up."

Daisya rolled his eyes. "Really? In public?" He snorted. "I'm callin' ya on that bluff, Kanda."

Kanda felt a strong urge to punch his brother in the face just then; but it really was public, and he could wait until they got to the car. _Then_ he could punch Daisya.

"Eh-hem," Tiedoll said politely, interrupting their argument. They both turned to glare at him, silently asking what the hell he was interfering for. "I think our waitress is here."

Kanda and Daisya both turned to look at the waitress, and he blinked. She was ... unusual looking, to say the least. Her hair was relatively short, only barely grazing the top of thin shoulders, but that wasn't the strangest thing about it – it was snow white. She was quite fair-complected, with gray eyes; a strange scar crossed over one of her eyes. Her uniform was a little different too - her sleeves were long where the other waitresses' were short. Not to mention she was wearing gloves. Was she sick or something, so she wasn't allowed to touch the food? He couldn't think of any other reason why she would be wearing gloves. 

"Hello, and welcome to Buddy's!" she said, smiling brightly. Her voice was a bit deeper than most girls' he knew. "I'm Alanna, and I'll be your waitress tonight! So, what can I get you guys to drink?" She held up a little memo pad and pulled a pen out of a pocket. "We have Coke products, sweet tea, water, lemonade... "

"I'll just have water," Tiedoll said, smiling kindly at the girl.

"Water for me too," Marie went next.

"I want a beer," Daisya said, clearly thrown off by the androgynous girl standing before him. He preferred buxom types, but it was plain to Kanda that he was considering making an exception for Alanna. "Bud Light, draft."

"And for you, sir?"

Kanda looked up at the waitress who had turned to him. "Tea," he grunted out. "Hot, no sugar."

"Um … we don't serve hot tea here, sir-"

"Then just don't put ice in the unsweetened tea," he said, interrupting her. It figured - it would probably be plain black tea too. Yuck. He wished American restaurants would jump on the green tea bandwagon. She nodded and wrote it down.

"I'll be back in a minute with your drinks!" she said.

Kanda stared at her retreating back. "I wonder why her outfit was different," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

"Are you actually interested in a girl, Kanda?" Daisya asked incredulously.

"Not that one," he replied scornfully, glaring at the other. "But she looks a lot different than all the other waitresses here. And why is her hair dyed  _white_? She can't be more than twenty."

"Her hair was white?" Marie interjected. "Huh. Well, were her eyebrows white? If they were, it probably just grows that way."

"That doesn't mean anything," Daisya pointed out. "You can dye your eyebrows too, you know."

"You would know, you freaking clown," Kanda said. Daisya liked to dye his hair random colors occasionally. He'd left for his first semester of college with green-as-grass hair. At the moment, it was his natural brown, but Kanda suspected that it wouldn't be long until it mysteriously changed to some neon atrocity.

"At least my hair doesn't make me look like a girl," Daisya said, smirking.

"I do not look like a girl," Kanda said dangerously, his dark eyes glinting murder.

"It would really be nice if you two decided to stop arguing," Tiedoll said, smiling at the two of them. "This is supposed to be a happy dinner."

"Besides, I hear the waitress coming back," Marie pointed out.  Sure enough, Alanna was back with a small tray balanced on her hand. She easily moved around the table, setting their drinks before them. After that, she pulled out her little memo pad and pen.

"So, are you guys ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu?" she asked cheerily.

"Well, that hostess said that the hot wings here are good, so I'll think I'll go with that," Tiedoll said brightly. "Just mild sauce though. I can't handle them too hot! And ranch dressing too, please!"

"Okay!" Alanna scrawled something down. "And you?" she asked Daisya, tilting her head to the side slightly.

"What's your favorite, Alanna?" he asked the girl, smirking.

"Oh, I like everything!" she said happily.

"You don't have a favorite?" he continued.

"Not really," she said, putting a finger to her mouth to think about it. "But the burgers are pretty good."

"I'll have that then," Daisya said. "Well done." He looked at the list of sides. "And I guess just fries for the side."

"I'll have the same as him," Marie said.

 _Typical American fare,_ Kanda thought sourly. _Damnit. I really wanted soba._

"And you, sir?" Alanna's cheery voice had finally found its way to Kanda.

"I don't want anything," he said, pushing the menu away from him as if to make his point.

"… you don't want anything?" she asked. "Are you sure? We've got lots of different options!"

"I said I don't want anything!" he repeated, more firmly this time. Had that not been abundantly clear?

"Um, okay," Alanna said, flipping her memo book shut.

"Ah, don't mind him," Tiedoll said, waving a hand. "He's in a bad mood because his restaurant pick got shot down. He's actually being incredibly nice to you, considering!"

To Kanda's surprise, the girl laughed at that. "Did he forget to take his happy pill this morning?" she asked teasingly.

"I am not on happy pills," he spat at her. 

"I wish they made happy pills for him," Tiedoll informed her. "Then he might actually agree to let me paint him for once! I don't see why it's such a big deal – Daisya and Marie let me paint them. And he really has nice features, don't you-"

"She doesn't care, you know," Kanda interrupted, rolling his eyes.

Alanna just smiled and made her way to the kitchens, leaving the four of them alone. For about twenty minutes, they sat there, not really talking about anything important. For the most part, Kanda kept himself out of the conversation. Daisya mainly talked about his university endeavors, most of which included soccer, women, beer or a combination of the three. Marie didn't really do anything but listen, while Tiedoll was almost in tears when Daisya got to the part about the graduation ceremony – even though the old man had been there to witness it. And video tape it. And re-watch it later.

When the old man really  _did_ start crying, Kanda decided it was definitely time to head for the bathroom. He scanned the room, looking for a sign to point him in the right direction. When he saw the sign highlighting the way, he stood up, not bothering to give an explanation as he headed for the doorway. He didn't really have to go to the bathroom, but anything was better than listening to the geezer cry about things like graduation ceremonies.

He was so intent on trying to escape – damn, the old man was  _loud_ when he cried! – that he didn't realize he'd run into someone until he felt warm food hit him. He stopped, looking down at himself, and then moved his attention to whoever had run into him. Luckily, they were in a relatively private hallway, so no one had seen what had happened.

"What the hell?" he demanded, looking down at the body sprawled on the floor. He was actually pretty lucky – the person on the floor, a waitress by the looks of it, had come out much messier than him. He kicked aside the tray that was covering the person's face, and then blinked in slight surprise. It was … it was Alanna, her white hair streaked with red marinara sauce and a look of mixed shock and mortification clearly written on her face. "Geez, watch where you're going! You ruined my shirt!"

"I'm sorry!" she said, flushing. She stood up hastily and moved forward, starting to brush food off his sauce-sodden shirt.

"Don't touch me," he snapped. Not even thinking about it, he reached out and pushed back. As soon as his hand hit her, both of them took a step back. His face only looked mildly surprised, belying the immense sense of surprise he was currently experiencing. He'd hit her chest - but he definitely had not felt breasts. There had been some padding there, but come on; there was a difference between real boob and not-real boob, and anyone who had felt both could immediately tell which was which.

So did that mean... ?

She looked terrified. "You…" he said, unsure of how to say what was currently on his mind: anger at the deception and food slowly dripping off his torso, but also confused and unsure of what to do. Or say. Or act.

"Please, don't say anything!" she begged him, bringing her hands together in a gesture of supplication.

"Tell anyone what?" he demanded. 

"That I'm a guy!"

 


	2. Chapter 2

"I can explain!" the recently exposed male said, waving his hands in front of him rapidly. "But please, don't tell anyone!" His huge gray eyes were pleading.

Kanda wasn't sure what to say in response. Why would he tell anyone? Did anyone really care? Obviously if the guy worked here the management was in on the secret ... right? "Whatever," he finally settled on saying.

The boy's eyes widened, as if he'd expected Kanda to shoot down his plea, but he didn't reply. He looked down at the dirty floor and flushed a little bit. "I should probably get this cleaned up. And I'll have to get your order again." He sighed. "I probably ruined your shirt, too. I'm sorry."

"Like that's going to make it any better," Kanda said, looking down at his shirt in disdain. It really wasn't  _that_ bad. But he wasn't going to say that to the kid. "Why the hell are you dressed up like a girl anyways?"

"I had to," the kid said with a sigh. "My… master-"

" _Master?_ " Kanda repeated. "You're aware slavery ended over a hundred years ago, aren't you?"

"Wha-?" A confused expression melted into one of outrage and indignation. "Not that kind of master, idiot! Master as in he _teaches_ me!" He let out a little huff of air, his lower lip falling into a pout. "Anyways, he owns this place, but the damn bastard's always out running around with the waitresses on their days off, so I have to basically run the business."

"That doesn't explain why you're dressed up as a girl," Kanda pointed out dryly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why aren't you just a waiter? You kind of stick out - even your uniform's different."

"Well, of course not!" the kid said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't have …" He flushed, and Kanda rolled his eyes at the kid's obvious embarrassment. "I wear a padded bra," he continued, "but it's not really convincing. So I altered the outfit to make it easier to conceal. I can't be a waiter because Cross doesn't hire men. But he wanted me to work here, and pay off his debts. Stupid womanizing bastard," he muttered under his breath. "Anyways, I don't get paid to manage the business - even though I'm expected to - so I wait tables too."

Kanda snorted. "I see," he muttered. He eyed the guy; he was rather short for an American guy, and very slender. He reminded Kanda of a bean sprout. Thin, with a big head at the end. He smirked, the image sticking in his mind. "Moyashi." 

"Eh?" the kid said, frowning a bit. "'Moyashi'? What's that?"

"A word, idiot," Kanda ground out.

"Obviously," the boy muttered. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"Yeah, says the kid that just dumped a plate of food all over me," Kanda retorted.

"What does that have to do with being stupid?!" the kid demanded, clearly angry now. "And I'm not a kid either!" He eyed Kanda, as if he was just seeing him for the first time. "You know what - you're being really rude!"

"And you're being really annoying!" Kanda shot back. "Just - go do your job while I go attempt to get this out of my shirt!" He gestured to the marinara sauce.

"My name is Allen, not Moyashi!" the boy called out angrily at Kanda's retreating back as he continued down the hall. But he didn't care what the guy's name was. It wasn't as if he was ever going to see him again after tonight.

He stepped inside the restroom, which was surprisingly empty. Walking over to a mirror, he surveyed the damage done to his shirt. Since it was a dark fabric, the stains just looked like big wet splotches. He used a paper towel to wipe off the pieces of food that were clinging to him, and then grimaced. It might look okay, but the fabric smelled horrible. He'd have to throw it away when he got back to his apartment.

With a huff of irritation, he headed back out to the table just in time to see Alanna – no,  _Allen_ , he reminded himself mentally – placing a basket full of cheesy nachos on the table, a guilty expression on his face. Kanda's shoulder accidentally knocked into the boy's as he slipped back into his seat – accidentally being the subjective word, of course. The waiter opened his mouth to say something, but after seeing Kanda's raised eyebrow, he closed his mouth again and went away.

"Poor thing," Tiedoll said, smiling faintly. "Did you hear that, Kanda? She accidentally bumped into someone on the way here, so we'll have to wait a little longer for the food." He didn't look at all upset, though Daisya was beginning to look a bit impatient. "She brought us a free appetizer though!"

 _Did he not tell them that he ran into_ me _?_ he asked himself. No one was calling him names or berating him for being rude, so he guessed the answer was a big, fat no. He tuned everyone else out as he thought about what Allen had said earlier. Apparently, his  _Master_  – though why the kid couldn't just say teacher like any other normal person would was beyond Kanda's thought capabilities – owned this place. But he was never around. And most of the time he spent not-running-the-restaurant was spent with any waitresses that were off-duty.

So he was forced to work here, apparently to pay off the owner's debts. And why couldn't he get a regular job? Like one that didn't force him to pass himself off as a girl? It didn't make sense to Kanda – surely there were easier and better paying jobs out there where, you know, he didn't have to hide his sex. But he gave up trying to understand the kid's motives rather quickly. After all, he really didn't care.

* * *

Allen sighed after he finished explaining to the cook – a rather eccentric man named Jerry, whose bright pink hair wasn't quite hidden by his chef's hat – that he needed the order for table seventy-six again. Leaning against a wall in the hallway that ran by the kitchen, he looked down at his uniform with disdain. It was going to take forever to get these stains out! And he didn't even own a washing machine … which just meant more money going down the drain.

"Allen?" a quiet, surprised voice asked from his right. He looked up to see his coworker and best friend, Lenalee Lee, frowning at him and his dirty uniform. She was also the only one who worked here who knew of his secret; of course she only knew because he'd found out  _her_  secret. It was reciprocal that way. She was a little older than him, in her first year of college, but she still lived with her brother – her very overprotective brother who still thought she was a five year-old who wore pink dresses and played with Barbie's. Naturally, he didn't know she worked here. He would have a conniption fit – or perhaps an aneurysm. With Komui Lee – whom Allen had only had to meet once – the two were basically the same.

"Are you alright?" she continued, sounding slightly worried now. "What happened to you?"

He flushed a bit, and ran a hand through his hair in embarrassment. "I, uh, wasn't looking where I was going … and ran into a customer," he said bashfully.

"Allen!" Lenalee said, sighing. "You need to watch where you're going. That's the second time this month, and it's only the fifteenth!"

"I know," he muttered. "But it gets even better." He smiled at her weakly.

A horrified look crept onto her face. "No," she whispered.

"Yep," he said, "He found out."

"What are you going to do?" she pressed.

"Well…" he trailed off because he wasn't sure  _what_ he was going to do. "He didn't really say anything … I don't think he'll tell anyone, though. I hope not anyways."

"Well. That's a relief!" she said, smiling at him. Then, thinking of something else, she brightened up immediately, her violet eyes sparkling. "Oh! By the way, guess who wants to meet you?"

"Um… "

"Lavi!" she gushed happily. Allen's mouth instantly formed an "o" of recognition. Lavi was Lenalee's latest boyfriend. She'd had a few relationships before, but nothing too serious. But apparently Lavi was different. He was  _so_ smart, and  _so_ funny, and  _so_ completely and totally charming – or at least, that was what Lenalee told him at every opportunity that she got. Perhaps he could give the guy a chance. From what he'd determined, Lavi seemed like a nice enough guy – especially if Komui was willing to let him date his precious Lenalee.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes!" the excited girl proclaimed. "He said he wants to go on a double date together!"

"Does he know I'm a guy?" Allen deadpanned.

"Of course," she said. "But he just thinks you're the son of the guy who owns this place. That's not too far from the truth, you know." That was true; Cross had technically been his legal guardian while he was underage, despite how horrible he had been at, well, parenting.

He nodded. But thinking of another problem with her plan, he spoke up. "Um, you mentioned a double date … but I'm not seeing anyone right now …" he trailed off. To be truthful, he'd never really seen  _anyone_ before. He'd never really been interested in people that way. Cross's endeavors had kind of turned him off to the idea of sex in general. He'd hadn't even thought about what his orientation was, to be honest.

"Psh, that's fine," she said, waving a hand in dismissal. "We'll find someone for you, Allen!"

"Sure," he murmured noncommittally.

"Order up!"

Allen and Lenalee both turned to see the order for table seventy-six placed on the ready-to-be-served platform. "Well, that's my cue to get back to work," Allen said, offering his friend a smile.

"Alright," she said. "I'll call you about the details later!" He nodded and she cheerfully bounded away, probably to go make sure everyone was doing their jobs correctly. That was, after all, what she did best.

Walking over to the counter, Allen carefully put all the plates onto a new tray. Holding it tightly in his hands, he walked at a steady pace to the table. Luckily, there was no one in his way this time. He quickly delivered the plates. But he couldn't help but notice that this family was just so odd! The older man seemed nice enough, if a bit overly sentimental. The tall man with only a topknot of hair seemed okay too, just quiet.

The other two were the strange ones, though. First of all, the shorter one with the brown hair was looking at him funny. It was as if … he had to fight not to laugh when he figured it out. This guy clearly thought of him as a girl, and must have thought he was attractive. Oh, dear. How incredibly awkward. And then there was Mr. I-Have-A-Giant-Stick-Up-My-Ass. Or at least, that was what Allen had taken to calling him since he didn't know his real name. He was glaring again, not really at anyone in particular. Perhaps he simply suffered from Resting Bitch Face? It was a pity; if he had relaxed his features, Allen would wager that he didn't look bad at all.

In fact... he might also be beautiful.

* * *

Kanda was a junior in college this year. He wasn't at a particularly prestigious university, but he wasn't at a community college either. He wasn't incredibly smart like Marie, but he wasn't incredibly stupid like Daisya either, who had only gotten into a school in the first place based upon his soccer abilities. As a college student, he didn't have a lot of money. He had a small apartment in the section of town that was neither high-class nor low-class. Tiedoll could've easily gotten him a better place – despite how much of a fruitcake he was, the guy was an accomplished artist – but he didn't want to have to depend on the guy.

So he had a job. He was a security guard at a local museum. He generally worked the day shift on weekends and sometimes the night shift during the week. It wasn't the best job in the world, nor was it really that entertaining. He rarely ever had to yell at adults, and no had ever tried to break in. But it paid well enough to keep him in an apartment. Plus he was good at his job – all the little brats that got a little too touchy-feely with the exhibits were quick to find themselves the victim of a fierce glare and a scalding reprimand. Even his coworkers seemed a bit frightened of him.

However, one of the downfalls of having a small apartment was that there was no washing machine. And since it wasn't a high-end apartment, there wasn't a built-in laundromat downstairs. He unfortunately had to go across the street to a cheap place to wash all his clothes. And tonight was laundry night.

He'd shooed off the rest of his "family" as soon as they'd dropped him off. He didn't want to talk to them any more than was necessary, considering his mood. Instead, he'd tromped up to his apartment, opened the door, and grabbed a basket of dirty laundry and some change before heading back downstairs and across the street. And of course, he'd changed into a fresh shirt.

As soon as he entered the laundromat, the sound of rumbling washers and dryers met his ears. Luckily, there weren't many people here. After all, who did their laundry at ten thirty on a Wednesday night? It wasn't exactly rush hour. Walking all the way to the back, he claimed an empty machine and dumped his clothes into the drum. Not really paying attention to what he was doing, he found the detergent and fabric softener and threw the right amounts in before slamming the door shut and sticking a few coins in the slot.

The machine having started, he moved to sit on a bench against the wall. There was a woman about five feet away, but she was paying no attention to him. He leaned his head against the wall and let his eyes slip shut. It had been a rather trying day. Tch, and wasn't that putting it lightly? His arms moved up to cross over his chest. In a few minutes, he was able to tune everything out completely, entering a semi-meditative state that allowed him to completely relax. It was so peaceful.

That is, until a rather annoying kerplunk made him open his eyes in vexation. There, lying just past the entryway into the building was a person hidden under masses of clothing. All Kanda could see was a pair of feet. He rolled his eyes. Honestly, was everyone in this world as clumsy as a pig in pool of grease? First that waiter, now this guy? Jesus Christ. A few people made moves to help the person out, but he stayed where he was, even going so far as to pointedly look the other direction.

"Are you okay?" someone asked.

"A-Ah, I'm f-fine!" a very embarrassed voice responded. Kanda's heart had to have skipped a beat, despite doctors saying that such an occurrence was impossible. He  _knew_ that voice, and he wasn't overly fond of its owner.

Someone protested that the person's face was starting to swell from where they'd hit the ground. "Really, i-it's nothing!" the invalid said. A scuffling sound was heard, and then people began to walk away, taking the person's word that they were fine. Out of the corner of his eyes, he looked to see if his suspicions were correct.

Damn. They were.

Now dressed in a pair of loose gray pants and a navy blue hoodie – with the hood pulled up, no less – that Allen kid was dumping his clothes in an empty washing machine. Kanda turned his head a little further to get a better view. It took the brat a few minutes to come up with the change to wash his clothes. While he was fishing around in his pockets, Kanda noticed that the idiot still had the glove on his left hand. What was up with that anyway? Strange.

Now finished, Allen took his white plastic basket in his arms and turned around, looking to find a seat. Kanda quickly averted his eyes, but he knew the brat would notice him – even  _he_  would admit that he stuck out a bit. You didn't see too many long-haired Japanese guys sitting in laundromats every day. He could practically feel the boy's silver gaze settle onto him.

Sure enough, said brat walked over to him. "Is it really you?" the kid asked incredulously.

Kanda turned to glare up at him. "No, I'm a ghost." He rolled his eyes. "Boo."

The kid scowled at him. "You know, you don't have to be such an ass all the time," he huffed, taking an empty place on the bench next to Kanda – luckily for him though, he opted to sit at least half a foot away from the dark-haired man. "I'm sure people would like you more if you were a bit nicer to them."

"Do you think I care about whether or not people like me?" Kanda demanded.

"Not really," Allen commented. He paused for a moment, and then continued in a timid voice. "Um … thank you … for not telling anyone back at the restaurant … about my situation." He blushed a bit, his hands fisted in his pants.

"Don't thank me," Kanda said scornfully. "Who is there to tell?" He shook his head. 

Allen didn't say anything back, and Kanda didn't push the conversation. He was hoping that if he was quiet enough, Allen would eventually get the hint and go away. And for a few short seconds of bliss, there was silence. However, just as Kanda was about to slip his eyes shut again, Allen spoke. "What's your name?'

The question was rather random to Kanda. His first initial reaction was to just tell the kid to shove off. But then again … what harm could it do? Maybe if he gave a few answers to the kid's questions, he'd go away. "Kanda," he said finally, in a very clipped tone.

"Kan … da?" the kid repeated, obviously not used to the foreign name. "Eh … that's not an anglicized name."

"Because I'm not American," Kanda snapped.

"I can see that," Allen replied, rolling his eyes. "Do you live around here?"

"No, I live in New York City and commute every day. Yes, I live here! Where else would I live?"

"Geez, there's no need to get so angry!" Allen protested. "It was just a question!"

"Why do you care anyways? It's not that important."

"You know who I am," the kid said flatly. "It's only fair that I know the name of the guy who ruined my work uniform."

That did it. Kanda whipped his head around faster than you could blink and glared down at the kid sitting beside him. "Listen, you little punk," he said viciously. " _You_ ran into  _me,_ not the other way around. Don't go blaming your clumsiness on me!"

"I wouldn't have even fallen if you'd just watched where you were going!"

"You want to repeat that?" Kanda demanded, leaning down dangerously close to Allen's face.

"No, thanks," the kid replied, smiling innocently. "It'd just be a waste of breath."

It took all of Kanda's willpower to not punch the kid's lights out then and there. But he figured that were he to actually hurt the little brat, there were too many witnesses in the room – he'd have to avoid them all too, and he really didn't feel like being bothered. So instead, he opted to get up and go check on his laundry. He stomped over to the machine, looking inside at the whirling fabrics.

How could one person get on his nerves so much? Sure, he didn't like most people. His family was one thing – you were allowed to dislike them as much as you wanted because you knew they'd still save your ass when you were in trouble, and vice versa. Tiedoll was an annoying old sap, Marie was persistently smoking his little peace pipe and Daisya was hornier than a Triceratops. They were dysfunctional, weird, and downright annoying – but he was stuck with them. He had learned to suck it up and deal with them. They were family, after all.

Then there were the other people he was forced to endure in his life. Like his coworkers, for instance. His boss – an idiot by the name of Komui Lee – was without a doubt the most infuriating person Kanda knew (though Allen was fast rising to the top). The old man who ran the help desk – who only called himself Bookman – was tolerable, but then again, he didn't really speak a whole lot. And then there was his stupid coworker.

Lavi was the antithesis of Kanda. He was loud, obnoxious, flirtatious and constantly firing on all cylinders. And the worst part was that he considered himself Kanda's best friend – seriously. The Asian man wasn't really sure what he'd done to warrant the unwanted friendship, but he'd gotten it. He'd tried to make the other go away and leave him the fuck alone, but it never seemed to work. Most people he knew seemed to act like that, come to think of it.

"Um, Kanda?"

Kanda glared down at Allen, who had ventured his way up to stand beside him. "What?" he asked icily.

"This fell out of your jacket when you got up and stomped over here," Allen explained, holding out his gloved hand; on his palm was Kanda's stupid student ID card. Why were those even necessary? No one cared who you were at college. But he supposed he did need it - for his meal plan and shit.

A snort was Kanda's only response. He reached out and took the card from the outstretched hand, making the contact as minimal as possible.

"I didn't know you were in college," Allen said quietly.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Kanda snapped before he could help himself. Cursing internally for actually talking to the guy and thus continuing a conversation, he immediately launched into a different topic, taking the focus away from him. "What the hell are you wearing a glove for, anyway?"

"Eh?" Allen asked, clearly surprised. He looked down at his hand. "Oh. Well, that … um, it's just … well…"

"Before I turn eighty and kick the fucking bucket, please."

"… it's nothing."

"Yeah. Whatever." It wasn't like he cared anyway.

Just then, the clothes stopped spinning in the tub. Kanda waited until the light that signaled the end of the washing process turned off before opening the door and gathering his clothes in his arms. He quickly moved over to a dryer and dumped everything in, going back a couple of times to get everything. He whirled a few dials and stuck in a few more coins before slamming the lid shut. He turned around and was about to go and sit back down on the bench when he noticed something rather odd.

Allen was staring at him. Furthermore, his gaze was … envious? As soon as the white-haired kid noticed Kanda's gaze on him, he flushed and looked away. He moved away to his own washing machine, looking down at the clothes rather miserably. Kanda wasn't sure what to make of that. What was there to be envious of in a laundromat? Securing a machine that actually ran and not one that left your clothes covered in suds even though it said it was done? Getting the dryer that didn't eat your socks?

He didn't think that was it. But that didn't stop the fact that Allen looked incredibly sad as he watched the spin cycle go round.

* * *

Allen sighed as he let himself back into the tiny apartment that he was just barely able to afford. It was cold in here, but he barely had enough money to pay the heating bill as it was, let alone if he upped the temperature. He wearily moved over to the area behind the small sofa, where there were wire lines suspended from the walls. He began to take his wet clothes out from his laundry basket and hang them over the wires where they could dry.

It sucked, but he wasn't even able to afford using the dryer. He'd barely had enough money to use the washing machine. He already worked three different jobs, only one of which he worked to pay for his own things. The other two went towards paying off his master's debts. The stupid womanizing bastard! He should have been in college right now, like everyone else who'd graduated with him last year. He had missed getting the scholarships he needed by a hair. But Cross wouldn't pay the tuition, and he couldn't afford to.

After getting all the clothes hung up, he set the basket down near the wall and headed into the bedroom, flopping down on his single bed face first. He was so tired. Today had been a tough day. Tomorrow he had to work at the café from five in the morning to noon. Then he could come home and have some time to run a few errands – and go to yet another doctor's appointment – before heading off to the restaurant at five. It wasn't an easy life, but it he made it work.

Flipping over onto his back, he pulled off the glove on his wretched hand. He hated that Kanda had asked him about it. He hated that he hadn't been able to summon a response. He hated that he wasn't able to tell people the truth. The truth? That he had a deformed arm that was completely disgusting to other people? He'd long since gotten used to it, but this arm had caused him nothing but trouble. And there was no way to fix it that he knew of.

He sighed. Tomorrow was going to suck.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Allen fidgeted nervously as he sat in the waiting room at the doctor's office. He knew he shouldn't be nervous – after all, he'd been having these appointments for years now – but he couldn't help but get somewhat anxious, in an excited, jittery kind of way whenever he visited the clinic. It was a little after one in the afternoon; his appointment had been at twelve-thirty, but everyone knew doctors were never on time.

"Allen Walker?" a voice suddenly called.

Looking up, Allen saw a kind-looking nurse standing towards the edge of the reception area, holding a clipboard in one of her hands. He practically jumped out of his seat as he rushed over to where the she stood. She led him into a sanitary room and had him sit down at the side of a white plastic examining table.

"So, you're just here for an annual check-up?" she asked, looking down at the charts.

"Yes," he said, smiling nervously at her.

"Could you remove your shirt please?" the nurse asked, turning around.

"Sure," he said easily, moving to do so. At first, he'd been embarrassed to have to show his arm to the staff every time he came in for a check-up. But he'd long since gotten comfortable with it. Most of the people here knew him anyways, so it wasn't as awkward. He laid his now neatly folded shirt on the empty chair beside his own.

"Alright then, please put your arm out on the examination table," the woman instructed, leaving her clipboard on the counter across the room. She moved over swiftly and checked his pulse, as well as his blood pressure – all the normal things that doctors were above doing. After she was finished, she recorded a few numbers and then moved to the door. "The doctor will be in in just a moment!" she said cheerfully before she left.

He leaned back in his chair, drawing his arm in towards his body unconsciously. He looked down at it, to see if anything had changed since the last time he'd been in here. It was still completely red and bumpy, almost like the surface of tree bark. It didn't hurt – it never had. The doctors had given him a complex explanation when Cross had taken him to the doctor right after he'd been adopted (the only time the man had ever done so), but he'd been so young at the time that he hadn't understood half of what the doctors had said.

The ridges and notches went all the way up to his shoulder, where it abruptly ended. There was no explanation for that, either. The nails on the hand were thick and black, although they suspected that that was more of a genetic mutation than a problem associated with his arm's color and texture. The cross mark on the back of the hand was attributed to being a birthmark, despite how unordinary it was.

He looked up at a sudden knock on the door. A few seconds later, a young man with lively light brown hair came in, his lab coat undone and a glass of soda in his hand. Allen smiled; this man wasn't the most professional doctor, but he was nice and knew what he was doing. "How you doing, Allen?" he asked, shutting the door behind him and smiling at the boy.

"Ah, pretty good, Dr. Reever," Allen responded. The guy's real name was Reever Wenham, but the man had said to call him by his first name, considering how often they saw each other. To Allen, he was almost like an older brother, albeit one that he only saw once every few months. Reever had been there for him, and had helped him work through some of the difficult feelings he had regarding the arm. He had a lot of respect for the guy.

"So, anything new with the arm?" the young doctor continued, sitting down across the examination table from Allen. He motioned to see the arm in question, so which Allen hastily put his arm back on the table.

"Not really," Allen said quietly.

"Not really as in kind of?" Reever asked, looking up briefly before going back to examining the arm, poking and prodding at it with his gloved fingers.

"No… not really as in nothing," Allen clarified. A few moments later and the examination was over. He gulped nervously. Well, here it was – the moment of truth. This wasn't really just a check-up, although it had been easier to tell the nurse that than give out the convoluted medical history. In truth, this was a very important doctor's visit for Allen; this was the day he was going to learn whether or not they could fix his arm, make it look normal. He looked up hopefully at the doctor.

Reever sighed. "I know what you're going to ask," he said. Allen's spirits immediately fell at the resigned tone in the other's voice. Reever noticed this and frowned. "Come on now, don't get depressed! You don't even know what I'm going to say!"

"I can guess," Allen said quietly, smiling wanly.

"Eh," the man said noncommittally. "I've got good news and bad news… what do you want first?"

"The good, I guess."

"Well, we think we know what's wrong with your arm, and it is something we can fix!" Reever said. Allen's eyebrows rose significantly, a hopeful expression on his eager face. "However… the procedure required to remove these lesions costs a lot of money. And you only have minimum insurance, right?" Allen nodded glumly; Cross was too cheap to pay for anything else. "Well then, your coverage probably won't pay for more than an anesthetic, if it pays for that at all."

Allen sighed, but smiled anyway. "I guess I should've expected that," he said. "But at least it's curable, right?"

"Yep," Reever said, leaning back in his chair. "It's just an unusually violent case of xanthoma disseminatum." He lengthened his explanation after Allen shot him a blank look. "Basically, it's just a bunch of skin lesions caused by an abnormality in the way a person's lipid intake interacts with their metabolism. They're not harmful – just annoying. Your case is somewhat odd because most instances of disseminatum have a late onset, generally in later adulthood. You've had yours as far back as you can remember, right?" Allen nodded. "But like I said, they're not going to hurt you. It's mainly a cosmetic issue." He paused for a moment or two. "On a related note... you know those tests we did on you last time you came in?"

"Yeah," Allen said, listening intently in case there was some information he needed to take in. He was determined to understand his condition now that he finally had some hints as to what it was.

"Well, we figured since your arm is covered in these lesions, you might have some other kind of disorder relating to lipid metabolism," the doctor explained. "After all, your diet is rather… abnormal." Allen nodded wryly - sure, he ate a lot. Okay, make that a ton. But he couldn't help it - honestly, he really  _was_  hungry all the time. "But we couldn't find anything. All we can come up with is that something is making your metabolism not work properly. Thus, these xanthoma. Sometimes, these lesions go away on their own, but in your case, it looks as if your body has just adapted."

"So to clarify: I can get them removed but it'll cost a lot of money?" he asked. Reever nodded. "Do you have a rough estimate of how much?"

The doctor sighed. "Allen, we're talking close to fifteen thousand dollars here," he said, a consolatory note in his voice. "You have a lot of lesions, and we have to cover the anesthesia and the cost of the medical team. That's not even mentioning the cost of aftercare and follow-up appointments." He sighed. "There's also the possibility that the lesions will grow back. Since we can't pinpoint a cause, we can't do much in the way of prevention at the moment."

Allen nodded faintly. "Well. I guess I'll just have to work hard to get the money then."

* * *

"Why are we watching this?" Kanda demanded, staring at the TV screen. "This has got to be the worst movie I've ever seen." Not that there were a whole lot of movies that he  _did_  like. But this one was so corny and horrible – and it was actually based upon a  _novel_? Had it sold many copies? He couldn't imagine it had.

"Aw, don't be like that, Yuu!" Tiedoll said happily, munching on his popcorn. "This is my favorite movie!"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kanda glared at the screen, barely noticing what was happening. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten dragged into the "Tiedoll Family Movie Night" but he sure as hell wasn't enjoying it. For one thing, it meant he had to be around his family. It wasn't that he didn't care for his family - he did, albeit in his own way, of course - but none of them had interests that he enjoyed. Hence, this crappy movie. And speaking on that - Tiedoll always chose horrible movies. He looked over to see if Daisya and Marie were faring any better than he was.

Marie wasn't really paying attention to the movie; his vision had always been bad due to a genetic condition known as retinitis pigmentosa. Eventually, it would leave him completely blind, but he could still see to a degree. Still… judging from his bored expression, this movie wasn't making the cut for him. But he was much too nice to ever say anything about it. Daisya, on the other hand, was staring at the screen in slight confusion, as if something was absolutely flabbergasting.

They were only about thirty minutes into the movie, and Kanda had been contemplating ways to somehow get out of this situation since the opening credits. But since the others had shown up at  _his_ apartment and announced they were watching a movie tonight, his options for escape were slim. Not to mention, if he caused too much ruckus, he'd get another noise violation and have to discuss it with his landlord. And he  _hated_ that stupid man.

"How the hell is  _this_  your favorite movie?" Kanda demanded. "You say that for every movie you watch!"

"But this time I really mean it!" Tiedoll protested. "It's such a wonderful, beautiful love story!"

"Clearly, since he left her and hasn't come back," Kanda muttered.

"What's the name of it again?" Daisya asked, looking around for the DVD case. Upon finding it, he stared at the front cover. "I swear I've never heard of this movie before."

Kanda reached over and grabbed the case from out of his hands. He looked down at the cover, where the two lovers were displayed – the woman with her stupid, smug little smile and the man with his ratty-ass little mustache. Whoever had devised the plot and dialogue of the movie The Princess Bride deserved to be stripped of their screenwriting privileges; Kanda was more than willing to be the bearer of this bad news. Perhaps the notice should be sent to the book's author too.

"Oh, do you want to borrow the movie, Yuu?" Tiedoll asked. Kanda looked up at his adoptive father quickly, shooting the old man a glare.

"Like hell I do," he snapped, chucking the DVD case back to Daisya. "And why did you have to come over to  _my_ place to watch this anyways?"

Tiedoll blinked. "If we'd just invited you over to the house, you wouldn't have come." He stated his answer as if it was the simplest concept in the world to understand. And it was true, Kanda grudgingly admitted. "And then we couldn't have a family movie night!"

"And that's bad  _how_?" Kanda asked, rolling his eyes. Luckily, the phone rang just then – he had an excuse to leave the room and instead go gripe at whoever was unlucky enough to choose to call him on this night. He stood up and walked into the kitchen, flipping on the light switch as he went.

He heard Tiedoll sigh in what was probably sympathy. "That's why poor Yuu doesn't have a girlfriend," he heard the stupid old fart mutter. "He's always in such a bad mood."

Kanda gritted his teeth together to keep himself from screaming. Reaching down, he jerked the phone up off the receiver and held it up to his hear. "What?" he asked flatly. Most people who knew him would realize that he wasn't really going out of his way to be rude – he just didn't like talking to people or using the phone, and as such, people realized that that was the only greeting they were ever going to be given.

"Eh, Yuu-chan!" an annoying and horribly familiar voice responded disdainfully. "That's no way to greet your best friend!"

Kanda glared down at the poor table the phone rested on. Great. Wasn't this just perfect? He'd escaped from the living room only to have to talk to Lavi, his bumbling co-worker. "Don't call me that. You don't know me like that!" Kanda snapped into the receiver. For some reason, Lavi thought it was cute to add one of the honorific suffixes used in Japan to Kanda's name – his  _first_ name, a name by which very few people were allowed to know him. Well, Tiedoll did, but considering that the man  _was_  technically his guardian, Kanda had let it slide. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Lavi used "-chan," an honorific which was primarily used toward girls. He wasn't sure whether or not Lavi knew what he was implying by using those words, but he was betting the other did. Wasn't worth the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, you're so mean to me!" Lavi protested.

"Then why do you still hang around me like some dumb dog?" Kanda demanded.

"Because I'm your best friend!"

"Che." He rolled his eyes. "What do you want anyway?"

"Oh, are you busy or something?" Lavi sounded surprised, the stupid bastard. He had probably assumed that Kanda had been sitting at home, doing classwork or some other mundane thing. Which, in all honestly, he probably  _would've_ been doing had his family not shown up at the door and practically invaded his home.

"Yes."

"Really?!" And the idiot had the audacity to sound shocked?! This was one of the many reasons that he hated Lavi – the guy could read Kanda extraordinarily well. He hated it, but he wasn't about to change just because someone read him like an open book. If they wanted to look into his life, that was their problem. As long as they didn't try to "help" him out, they wouldn't have a problem. "What are you doing?!"

"That is none of your business," Kanda informed him matter-of-factly. "You have ten seconds to tell me why you're calling, or I'm hanging up."

"Eh, wait!" Lavi protested. "It really is important!"

"You're down to five."

"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay – just listen to me!" Lavi said, rushing his words so fast that they all blurred together. "You know how we were supposed to work the graveyard shift Friday night?" Kanda didn't respond, but he was listening now – work was important, even if he had to listen to Lavi in order to get the latest updates. "Well, we've been moved to working Sunday afternoon instead."

"Why?"

"Routine cleaning," Lavi responded. "They're shutting down the entire building early."

"Fine." Kanda moved to hang up, but as he pulled the phone away from his ear, he could hear Lavi's screaming voice get louder and louder. Growling in annoyance, he put the phone back at the side of his face. "What the fuck is it now?!"

"Yuu-chan, you didn't listen to me!"

"Che, are you surprised?" Kanda retorted. "And don't call me that! How many times do I have to tell you that?!"

"At least once more, Miss Swan," Lavi said in what was actually a fair imitation of Orlando Bloom. He giggled and then launched into another conversation before Kanda could respond. "But, you see, I was wondering if, since you aren't going to be doing anything Friday night, you wanted to come out with me!"

"… and I would want to do that because... ?" Kanda deadpanned.

" _Because_  I want you to meet Lenalee!"

"Who's that?" Kanda asked. He vaguely remembered the name from somewhere, but he just couldn't remember … perhaps it was the name of a famous actress? No, that wasn't it. Then where … it hit him like a ton of bricks. "Komui's kid sister?" he guessed. That's right - Lavi had mentioned something about dating her. Kanda had been forced to hear the other talk about it for hours on end the last time they'd worked together. He hadn't really been paying attention, hence the lack of recognition at her name. "No. No way in hell am I meeting another member of that crazy family. Forget it."

"Aw, but Yuu-chan, she's nothing like Komui!" Lavi protested. "I promise! She's not weird, or obsessive, or maniacal, and she definitely doesn't belong in a mental ward!" He sighed. "She's been dying to meet you ever since I told her about the time you destroyed Tiedoll's old car!"

"You told her about that?!" Kanda asked dangerously. He'd told Lavi to never, never,  _never_  tell anyone about that particular incident. The only reason the dumbass knew in the first place was because Daisya had told him purely to spite Kanda – those two were too similar for their own good, sometimes. Well, other than the fact that Daisya was an idiot and Lavi had an IQ of around 200.

"Yep!" Lavi said happily. "She thinks it's funny!"

"And now you want me to meet her?"

"Oh, c'mon, Yuu-chan, it won't be so bad!" Lavi persisted. "Plus she's gonna bring her best friend, so you'll have company too!"

"Her best friend?"

"Yeah, some person named Aaron!"

"Are you trying to set me up with a  _guy_?" Kanda asked, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "For the last freaking time, just because I have long hair does not mean that I am gay! Quit stereotyping me!" He could hear the volume of the TV in the living room drop significantly. Looking around the doorway, he saw all three members of his family staring at him and listening intently. He glared at them murderously, and they all whipped around rapidly, the noise of the movie rising to the point of being annoying.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Lavi said quickly. "Lenalee said the guy's just a good friend. Practically harmless. All her girl friends already have boyfriends though. So they can't go!" He paused. "So will you go?"

"… no."

"Oh, c'mon!"

"Why the hell would I go out with you, your girlfriend, and some friend who I don't know from Adam?"

"Because you love me."

"… I'm hanging up now."

"Wait, Yuu-!"

True to his word, Kanda slammed the receiver down.

* * *

"Lenalee, I really don't know about this," Allen said hesitantly as the two of them grabbed their mid-shift snacks and headed off to the breakroom to chat for a few minutes. They sat down at a small table near a droning TV that was babbling on and on about an accident downtown. Allen immediately began to eat while Lenalee delicately unwrapped her snack and tore it up into dainty pieces. "I don't think it's such a good idea."

The idea of going out with people he didn't know was a trial for someone like Allen – a person who'd been mocked because of his appearance his entire life. It wasn't as if he was overly embarrassed because of his arm - that was easily hidden - but his hair and the scar on his eye weren't exactly your average looks. People stared, the same way they often did when a person with brightly colored hair walked into a room.

Not to mention that going to restaurants curtailed an enormous bill, since he always consumed large amounts of food. To be honest, it was more of a hassle for him than anything else.

"Why not?" Lenalee asked. "It's just Lavi, and he's harmless, once you get used to him."

"Get… used to him?" he asked, puzzled.

"Well… " she trailed off, putting a finger to her bottom lip as if in deep thought. "He tends to be a bit … extreme."

"… extreme?"

"Energetic," she clarified. "And definitely mischievous! He likes to help people, regardless of whether or not they want his help, too. And he teases people a lot. I suppose you could say he has borderline ADD?"

"Teases?" he asked nervously. "Like, about how I'll look?"

"Oh, don't worry, he's not that low!" she said quickly. She smiled suddenly, leaning across the table towards him. "And I forgot to ask you! How'd your doctor's appointment go?" Naturally, she knew about his arm. She'd offered to help him pay for the procedure, but he wouldn't let her – she had to support herself, after all, considering how much money her brother wasted on experiments. He paid for her college tuition, and she lived with him. But that didn't give her much more than a roof and four walls. Of course, he still suspected that she was saving fractional amounts of her paycheck to give to him anyways. He wouldn't put it past her.

"Eh, well," he said, looking down at the table where his snack had once been. It had long since disappeared. The poor Twinkie hadn't even lasted a minute.

"Nothing's wrong, right?" she asked anxiously.

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that!" he said quickly. She drew back a little, tilting her head in question. "It's just … well, they know what's wrong with my arm, and they  _can_ fix it. But it's going to cost a lot more money than I'd hoped."

"How much?"

"About fifteen thousand dollars," he said, sighing. She winced. "And I don't have more than minimal insurance." He cursed Cross mentally once again. "Plus they told me that since they don't know what's causing these, these  _things_  to form, there's a good chance that they'll just grow back."

"So what are you going to do?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," he said, propping his head up on his chin. "It will take a long time to save up the money, even with three jobs. It might be better to forget about it."

"You can't do that!" she protested hotly. He blinked at her in slight surprise; he hadn't expected his words to get  _that_ fervent of a response. "You've worked so hard to get to this point, and put up with tons of testing and doctor's appointments for years! You are not quitting now!"

"Then what am I going to do?" he asked.

"We are going to find a way to pay for the procedure!" she proclaimed, smacking her left fist onto her open right palm. "Between me, Lavi, and my brother, I'm sure we can find a way to make this easier!" She sounded quite determined.

He laughed nervously. "Really, Lenalee, it's not a big deal," he said, trying to calm the girl down. "You don't have to do anything. I'm sure that in a year or two … or maybe three … perhaps even four or five … but I'm sure I can raise the money myself!" He tried to smile convincingly. "There's no need for you to bother, really."

"Allen," his friend said softly. He looked up at her, and saw her giving him  _that look_ – it wasn't one that he could readily describe, or one that he really understood, to be honest. It was one that told him not to give her any more bullshit. It was the look she gave him when she didn't want to tell him outright that she knew he was bluffing, that he was trying to keep people from interfering. He couldn't help it; he'd been practically alone ever since Cross had taken him in. He'd had to take care of himself. He wasn't used to people  _wanting_  to take care of him. But Lenalee wasn't giving up, and he didn't feel like arguing right now.

He sighed. She smiled in victory.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?"

He blinked at the abrupt change of topic. "Um … nothing really," he said slowly. "I have to go grocery shopping at some point, and I need to clean up Master's office." And God only knew how long that was going to take. Honestly, the man was the biggest slob Allen had ever seen! Did he not know what a trash can was for? There was a hint in the name, for Pete's sake! TRASH can – could it be any more obvious?

"Do you have to work Friday night?" she pressed.

"Only until six," he responded warily, guessing where this was heading.

"That's great!" Lenalee said happily, leaning forward to beam at him. "So you aren't busy! Like I was saying, will you please come out with Lavi and me, just for dinner? We even found someone else to go, so you won't be a third wheel or anything!"

"Really?" Allen asked, slightly surprised and wondering who it was. Lenalee didn't have many girl friends that she'd take out in public – look at the restaurant she worked at, after all. Komui had spies in many different places (a very frightening thought indeed), and he was worried that they would be a "bad influence" on his precious baby sister. Almost all of them were also in relationships - and he doubted their significant others would want them going out on what was presumably a double date.

"Mm-hmm!" she said, nodding her head. "Lavi's going to get his best friend to go."

Well that explained it. "… is this friend a guy?" he asked, blinking. They couldn't possibly be trying to set him up … could they? No, they wouldn't. They wouldn't do that to him; after all, Lavi didn't even know him, and Lenalee knew how he didn't like being thrust into situations that he wasn't prepared for. His first day waiting tables? Well, the mayor had never come back to the place again.

"Yeah, but it won't be a date or anything," she said quickly. "It's just a friends thing! His name is Yuu. Or something like that."

"You?" Allen asked, thinking of the English word "you". "Like with an 'o' and a 'u'?"

"No," she said, laughing a bit. "Yuu with two u's, as in the name."

"I've never heard of that name."

"That's because he's foreign, silly."

Giving in, they spent the next few minutes debating what restaurant they were going to go to and when and where to meet. It always took a while to figure out plans, considering that Allen didn't have a car and had to take either the subway or the bus from his apartment anytime he needed to go somewhere. Lenalee had a car, but she lived all the way on the other side of town in the girl's dorms at the university. Apparently, Lavi lived somewhere near Allen, but none of the streets directly linked their homes – really, who designed cities? A labyrinth of one-way streets was hardly the ideal grid for a city, in his opinion!

Eventually, they had it figured out that Allen would head home after his job ended at six on Friday. Lenalee would pick up Lavi up from his last class of the day (he went to the same university as Lenalee) and then head over to Allen's apartment. Then, they would go on to the restaurant – Lavi's friend was going to meet them there. Allen just hoped that this friend wasn't opposed to the plan. It would be terribly awkward to go out to eat with a couple and a sourpuss who refused to talk to you, after all.

* * *

Kanda leaned against the wall of the restaurant, his arms crossed over his chest and a stony look on his face. No one was coming near him, or worse, talking to him – a good thing, as he would probably would have snapped at anyone who dared approach him. Why he'd let Lavi talk him into going to dinner with him and his girlfriend was beyond him. Perhaps he'd relented in an attempt to shut the idiot up. Or maybe it was the fact that Lavi was paying, and they were going to a Japanese restaurant that he'd always wanted to try. And it just might've been that he had absolutely nothing better to do, and he was avoiding his family, who – as Murphy's Law dictated – would no doubt show up that night for another movie night from hell if he didn't leave.

He didn't want to be here. At least, not with Lavi and his latest girlfriend. Lavi had had a lot of relationships in the past, and most of them were about as serious as couples in fourth grade. They were more like … flings. But apparently, Lenalee was completely different. She was a keeper. Just thinking about the idea of romance made him want to gag. Especially considering that Lavi was the one doing the wooing.

And then there was the fact that all he had for company was some random guy named Aaron. Why did she have to bring a guy anyways? Couldn't she have found one, single girl friend? At least then it would have just been a double date instead of ... whatever this was!

Though to be honest, guys were easier to deal with than most girls he knew. Girls were ... complicated.

His cell phone, safely ensconced in his pocket, vibrated against his thigh. Barely making a move, he reached down and took the device out of his pocket, looking down at the screen. There was a text message from Lavi: "We're here!" Beside the word was a pink cutesy emoticon. Che. And he'd thought that only girls used those. But then again, it  _was_ Lavi. He put the phone back in his pocket and waited a few more moments. Sure enough, about a minute later, the door swung open and Lavi – dressed in a lime green shirt that clashed horribly with his hair, which was down for once – and the girl he assumed was Lenalee.

She was pretty, he supposed, those she wasn't precisely his idea of exquisitely beautiful, as Lavi had claimed she was. She had long black hair and wide violet eyes, dressed in what was probably suitable date wear. Kanda wouldn't know – he'd never gone on a date with a girl before. Not that that meant he'd been on dates with a lot of guys, either. He was straight - it was just that all the girls he interacted with, he found annoying or uninteresting. The few he liked weren't appealing to him sexually. He'd never met a girl that he'd immediately wanted to hook up with, as Lavi had. Perhaps he needed to get out more.

"Yuu-chan!" Lavi said happily once he'd spotted Kanda. Kanda prepared himself for the onslaught. The redhead bounded over to him, reaching out as if to hug him. But Kanda just held up a hand and caught the offending face, keeping him at arm's length.

"I hate hugs," he said coldly.

"Aw, don't be so cold!" Lavi protested, stepping back. Lenalee was looking between the two of them with slight concern on her face. Seeing her expression, Lavi immediately jumped into introductions. "Don't worry about him, he treats everyone this way. Lenalee, this is my best friend, Yuu Kanda!"

"Again with the first name!" Kanda snapped. His eyes flicked to Lenalee. "Just call me Kanda."

"O-Okay," she said, smiling nervously.

Noticing that there were only two people present, Kanda looked around to see if he was just missing something. "Where's the other guy?" he asked roughly. His eyes snapped back to Lavi. "If this was some kind of joke and it's just the three of us, I'm leaving now." He stood up straight; Kanda Yuu was  _not_  about to be a third wheel.

Lavi quickly put a hand out. "Hold your horses, Yuu-chan!" he said. "He's coming in a minute!"

"Yes, Allen agreed to park the car for us since it's so cold outside," Lenalee piped up, smiling. "Isn't that nice of him?"

"Yes, he's a fucking saint," Kanda muttered under his breath. What had happened to the guy being named Aaron? Lavi had probably - once again - gotten something mixed up with another; despite the fact that he was practically the second coming of Einstein, the redhead was lacking in the working memory department. Or if he wasn't, he just liked appearing like a complete ditz.

A gust of blustery wind flew in through the doors as a middle-aged man pushed his way into the restaurant's lobby. The woman with him shivered and exclaimed how cold it was outside. She was wearing a sleeveless, slinky black dress. He rolled his eyes. If it was so cold outside, why wear not wear pants? Or a freaking sweater?

Suddenly, Lavi and Lenalee turned around. "Ah, Allen!" Lenalee said, sounding surprised. She gasped. "What happened to your hand?" Kanda couldn't see who they were talking to since the both of them had turned around and were blocking his view.

"Ah, it's nothing," a familiar voice said sheepishly. He frowned. Did God seriously hate him? Was this seriously happening again?! "I, uh, accidentally slammed it in the car door." Kanda had to be sure though. He had to make sure it was that kid.

He stepped forward, forcing Lenalee and Lavi to part. Sure enough, standing there cradling his right hand against his chest was Allen. The same Allen who'd tripped in the laundromat. The same Allen who crossdressed as a waitress at a risqué restaurant. And the same Allen who'd dropped food all over him and ruined his shirt.

Wasn't life fucking perfect?


	4. Chapter 4

"You have got to be freaking kidding me," Kanda snapped, staring down at the stunned face of one Allen Walker. "What the hell are you doing here?" Since there were no mirrors around and he hadn't yet achieved the ability to look at himself without one, he couldn't be positive, but he felt his face slip into a scowl. He didn't like surprises, and this … well, it was one hell of a surprise.

"I could ask the same of you," Allen said wryly. He'd evidently gotten over his shock and was now staring up at Kanda questioningly. The kid turned to look at Lenalee. "I thought you said the guy's name was Yuu."

A noise that could only be described as a growl came out of Kanda's throat. "Don't you ever say that name again, brat," he threatened. "People do not just say my first name!"

The kid blinked. "Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"How about you just don't talk to me?" Kanda suggested snidely. He looked up at Lavi, who was staring at the two of them with slightly narrowed eyes, as if trying to assess the situation. Which he probably was, Kanda knowing the idiot like he did.

"His name's Kanda!" Lavi supplied happily, jumping into the conversation. Allen smiled and muttered thanks while Kanda glared the redhead down. Lavi made a pouting face at him. "Aw, Yuu-chan, don't be so mean! He's got to have something to call you by! He can't just go around saying 'hey, you!' … oh, wait … then he'd be saying your real name!" He burst into a fit of laughter at this apparently hilarious play on words. Kanda glared at him, while Lenalee gave him a meager smile for the attempt.

"Kanda it is, then," Allen said quietly to Kanda. Lavi was still laughing while Lenalee was asking if he was alright, trying get to him to calm down.

Kanda looked over at the kid and snorted. "Whatever," he muttered.

"Wow!" Lavi said, breathing harshly as if he he'd just ran a marathon. "That was funny!" Everyone else just stared at him blankly. He shrugged. "Eh, I thought it was good." He looked around for the host's platform. "Let's go get a table already – I'm starving!"

"Make that a table of three," Kanda huffed, taking a step towards the door. "I'm leaving."

"Yuu-chan!" Lavi whined, suddenly grabbing hold of Kanda's arm and holding on tight. "You can't leave! We haven't even eaten anything yet!"

"Let go of me!" Kanda snapped, trying to push the redhead off his arm. It was a rather unsuccessful attempt, seeing as how Lavi was stuck to him like glue. He had never wanted to punch the guy so much in his life, but he didn't feel like making a scene – well, an even bigger one than Lavi had already caused, with his loud, annoying voice.

He poked Lavi rather rudely in the eye, and the redhead staggered back, yowling. Taking advantage of Lavi's momentary lapse in concentration, he tactfully stepped out of the way. "Like I said before, I'm leaving." He turned around and started to go back through the glass doors.

"Coward."

He stopped in his tracks. Turning his head ever so slowly, he looked back over his shoulder. Lavi and Lenalee were both staring at Allen with shocked looks on their faces; Lavi was even slowly backing away from the kid. Allen, meanwhile, had a rather content look on his face for someone who'd just said something like  _that,_ to  _Kanda,_ of all people. "What did you say?" he asked dangerously.

Silver eyes flashed as they looked at him. "You heard me," the brat said, smiling serenely.

Turning around so fast that his ponytail almost hit him in the face, Kanda stomped over to the offender and grabbing him by the front of his dark blue button-up shirt. "Listen here, you punk," he snapped. "I am not a coward. So take that back and shove it up your-"

"Eh-hem."

Kanda broke off his rant as the host interrupted them. He had a disapproving look on his face, and was clenching his fist in annoyance. "What the hell do you want?" he demanded, still gripping Allen's shirt.

"I'm sorry, sir, but unless you're going to request a table and eat, I'm afraid you'll have to leave the building," the man said, looking distastefully at Allen – who was attempting to pry Kanda's hand off his shirt before it lost buttons but having little to no success. "We don't allow loitering in the lobby."

"Okay then!" Lavi said. "We'd like a table for four – preferably a booth!"

Kanda turned to face the red-head. "What the hell, idiot?" he demanded savagely. "I'm not eating with you people!"

"Why?" Lenalee asked innocently, tilting her head to one side. "It's just dinner - are you really too cowardly to sit through one meal, like Allen said?"

Kanda nearly had a seizure. This … this girl … she was definitely related to Komui Lee alright. She looked so innocent and kind – but it was all a façade. He could see that now. She knew exactly how to get what she wanted – and now she was backing Allen up because she knew Kanda wouldn't do anything to her. Dammit! Could everyone here read him that easily? With a snarl, he dropped the stupid white-haired kid to the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't want to be here, but he couldn't take all these blows to his pride. Besides, he was a little bit hungry. But only the slightest little bit.

The host sighed and snapped at a waitress that was just coming up. He quickly gave her some instructions, and she nodded, picking up four menus and sets of silverware. She smiled at them rather warily and told them to follow her. Kanda huffed and followed after her, pushing past the other three. He didn't care if they followed him or not – he just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

The waitress smiled back at him as she led him to a different room in the restaurant. "You and your friends all look so happy together!" she said. He snorted and looked back at the other three. Lavi and Lenalee had each looped an arm through Allen's, and were smiling and laughing with him. He rolled his eyes as he faced front again. "Are the redhead and the girl together?" She didn't wait for an answer. "They're such a good couple! They come here for lunch occasionally. And the littlest one!" She giggled. "He's so adorable! Is he with you?" She stopped at a booth and turned around, smiling winningly.

Kanda stopped in shock. For a moment, he just stared at her, and then the expression turned into a downright glare. "Am I  _with_ him?" he repeated, seething. Her smile faded a bit. "Why the hell would you think  _that_? Does it  _look_  like we are dating?"

Lavi and Lenalee, who had just arrived at the table – Allen in tow – stopped dead in their tracks, staring at the waitress, completely flabbergasted. Their arms dropped to their sides, camaraderie forgotten. For a moment, there was silence. Then, several things happened all at once. Lavi burst out laughing, Lenalee grabbed hold of the waitress's arm and pulled her out of the way of danger, and Allen flushed scarlet.

"Ah-hah-ha!" Lavi crowed, leaning over and slapping the table a few times in mirth. "As if!" Tears were coming out of his eyes – well, the one Kanda could see - now, streaming down his face. "Yuu-chan's about as sexual as a sponge!" He collapsed into one of the booths just then, laying his head down on his arms as he continued to laugh.

Kanda couldn't resist slamming the redhead's face into the table to get him to shut up. After the ensuing – and quite satisfactory – yelp of pain, he sat himself down in the booth across from said redhead and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked up at the waitress, who was by now holding the menus to her chest and staring at the both of them with wide eyes, and glared. "I am not gay," he spat out. "And even if I was, it certainly wouldn't be for Moyashi, here."

Allen – embarrassment clearly forgotten in his anger – looked up and scowled at Kanda. At least, he gave his best attempt at scowling, but considering his features, it didn't quite come off as menacing as he no doubt had hoped. "Don't call me that!" he said, clenching his fists.

"I'll call you whatever I want," Kanda said, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe it would be better if you just left," Lenalee muttered to the waitress. The blonde woman looked at the darker-haired one and nodded, handing her the menus and silverware. She sighed and motioned for Lavi to scoot over as she distributed the menus. After doing so, she sat down and looked over at Allen, who was still scowling at Kanda. "Allen, are you going to sit down?"

"I don't want to sit next to him," Allen said, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's an ass."

"Allen!" Lenalee said, in a stern manner. Kanda rolled his eyes – what was she, his mother?

"Fine," Allen said, sighing. He approached the seat Kanda was in warily, and slowly, inched down until he was sitting on the very edge of the cushion. He kept shooting Kanda glances out of the corners of his eyes every few seconds, as if waiting for an attack.

"Idiot," Kanda snorted. "I don't bite."

"Most of the time," Lavi clarified, opening his menu.

Normally, Kanda would've corrected such a statement, but this time, he felt no need. He didn't open the menu. He already knew what he wanted. So instead, he looked around the room. There weren't many people in this back section of the restaurant – that was probably why the host wanted them seated here. The walls were painted dark blue, and had pictures of Japanese scenery hanging on the walls. There were a few plants spaced around the room and he could hear running water from a fountain somewhere. He supposed it wasn't too bad.

"So how do you two know each other?" Lavi asked. Kanda turned his icy blue gaze back to Lavi. The redhead smiled at him.

"Well, um… " Allen began.

"We ran into each other at the laundromat," Kanda supplied, rolling his eyes. Obviously, the kid had been unsure of what to say, so he jumped in. No need to bring up the embarrassing scene in the restaurant. "Dumbass here fell on his face coming through the door."

"I did not fall!" Allen said indignantly. He flushed a little when he saw that everyone's attention was on him. "I ... uh … I just tripped, that's all. The floor wasn't level."

Kanda snorted. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he said. "You tripped."

"And you came to the rescue, Yuu-chan?" Lavi asked, smiling.

"Yeah, right," Allen said, rolling his eyes. "He wouldn't save his own mother!"

"I don't have a mother," Kanda replied back.

"Everyone has a mother, idiot," Allen shot back.

"She's dead."

There was silence for a moment. "Well, you still had one at some point."

"Shut up, Moyashi," Kanda growled.

"Moyashi?" Lavi asked, blinking. He looked at Kanda, and then at Allen, and then broke out into a big grin. "Ahhhhhh, I totally see now! The resemblance is  _so_  there, Yuu-chan!"

"Resemblance?" Allen asked as Kanda rolled his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you know what 'moyashi' means?" Lavi asked. Allen shook his head. "It really fits you, you know! Yuu-chan's good at coming up with names like that! I think it's his way of being creative since otherwise he's as boring as my left toe, but this one just takes the cake! It's a stroke of genius! I wish I'd-"

"What does it mean, Lavi?" Lenalee interrupted him kindly, smiling at her boyfriend.

Lavi smiled at her. "Bean sprout!"

Allen slowly turned his head to look at Kanda, a muscle in his cheek twitching from how hard he was biting the inside of his mouth. "Bean … sprout?" he repeated through a forced smile. "You're calling me a  _bean sprout_?"

"It fits you," Kanda said in affirmation. He could tell that Allen wanted to say something back, but at that moment, the new waitress came over to their table, a memo pad in her hand. She had shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes with huge dark circles under them. She was shaking like a leaf. He looked up at her through his bangs, and she gulped nervously.

"H-h-h-ello-o," she said. "I-I'm M-m-miranda, a-and I'll b-be your waitress t-today." She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear before continuing. "C-can I g-get you something t-to drink?"

"I just want water, please," Lenalee said, smiling up at the woman. The brunette nodded and laughed nervously, scribbling something down on her memo pad.

"I want a Coke!" Lavi said cheerfully.

"Water is fine for me," Allen said, smiling up at the waitress rather radiantly.

"Hot tea, no sugar," Kanda said tersely.

Miranda nodded and slapped her little memo book shut. "I'll b-b back in a m-m-m-minute!" she said, attempting to be brave.

Kanda snorted and rolled his eyes. "What a nervous wreck."

"That's not very nice," Allen commented.

"I never said I was nice," Kanda grunted back.

"He's got you there, Moyashi-chan!" Lavi said, grinning.

"Moyashi-chan?!" Allen repeated, sounding scandalized. "Not you too!"

"What?" Lavi asked innocently. "It's such a cute nickname!"

"I don't appreciate it," Allen said, pouting a bit.

"Che, grow up, brat," Kanda said, shifting around in the seat a little.

"Grow up?" Allen repeated. "I'm not a kid, you know!"

"What are you, thirteen?" Kanda asked, glaring across the seat at the white-haired boy. "Go back to junior high already!"

"I'm nineteen, for your information!" Allen snapped. "Just because I'm short doesn't mean I'm a kid!"

"Could've fooled me."

"At least I'm not a jerk!"

"No, you're five foot nothing. And that's just  _so_ much better. I'd take height over kindness any day."

"Really, you're nineteen?" Lavi asked then. Allen nodded. "Wooooow! You don't look nineteen at all! What school do you go to? You're in university, right?"

"Ah, no … I'm not," Allen said, flushing a bit in embarrassment.

"What, are you stupid, too?" Kanda asked, smirking.

"Allen's not stupid!" Lenalee said, frowning at Kanda. His gaze shifted to her. "He's actually really smart! He's always reading big books that I can't even begin to understand. He used to have to help me with my calculus homework every night."

"Then why aren't you in college?" Lavi asked.

"I … can't afford it," Allen muttered. "And my guardian refuses to pay tuition."

"Eh?" Lavi asked, blinking. "What about scholarships?"

"I missed out on the Presidential Award in the last round cut," Allen said, sighing. "I'm saving up though, so I'll make my way there eventually!" He smiled rather hopefully.

"That's so inspirational, Allen!" Lenalee said, smiling at him.

"Ah, you think so?"

"Dumbass," Kanda muttered under his breath. Allen turned around to stick his tongue out at him, but the waitress arrived before Kanda could say throw another insult out there. Miranda handed everyone's drinks out – just barely missing throwing water all over Lenalee – before taking out her memo pad again for their orders.

"Are y-you g-guys ready t-to order?" Miranda asked, smiling nervously. She looked first to Lenalee.

"Can I just have an order of vegetable tempura?" the dark-haired girl asked. Miranda nodded and scrawled something down before moving on to Lavi.

"I want the California Rolls!" Lavi proclaimed happily.

Kanda was next. "Soba," was all he said. Miranda blinked at him, but wrote it down anyways. And then they got to Allen. The kid was staring intently at the menu, reading over all the items listed there. After a few minutes of silence, Kanda was beginning to get impatient. "Oi, just go ahead and order already," he grunted.

"Um…" Allen picked up the menu and turned it around to face Miranda. He pointed to a section of the menu. "Can I have all of these?" he asked. Miranda's eyes bulged.

"Y-you want  _all_ of those?" she said incredulously.

"Yes, please!" the kid said brightly.

"O-okay," Miranda said, leaning forward to see what all the names of items were. After she was finished, she snapped her book shut and stood up straight. "It'll b-be about twenty m-m-minutes!"

As she left, Kanda turned to stare at Lavi. "California Rolls?" he spat scathingly. Lavi shot him a questioning look. "You come to a Japanese restaurant and order the most American sushi you can? If you wanted that shit, you could've just gone to a freaking grocery store."

"Aw, but Yuu-chan, real Japanese sushi tastes nasty! I don't like eel or sea urchin or any of that raw stuff." Lavi protested. "Besides, I didn't order nearly as much as Allen!" He turned to the smaller male. "That's incredible, Moyashi-chan! Are you sure you're gonna be able to eat it all?"

"Of course," Allen said, blinking. "Why would I order it if I couldn't eat it all?"

"Pig," Kanda snorted.

"I'm not a pig, Kanda!" Allen said, scowling over at the Japanese man. "Honestly, can you say something for once that's not insulting?!"

"Only if you don't give me a reason to be insulting," Kanda retorted.

"I'm just answering questions!" Allen said hotly. "It's called making conversation!"

"Will the two of you cut it out?" Lenalee snapped suddenly. Kanda looked over at the Chinese girl, not having expected such a response from her. She was frowning at them. "You're both acting like children!" Kanda just hmph-ed; Allen at least had the decency to flush in embarrassment.

"Sorry, Lenalee," he said quietly.

She sighed. "Let's just talk about something else," she said.

"Okay!" Lavi said brightly. He turned to Allen. "So how do you and Lenalee know each other?"

"Oh, well, she works at the place my guardian owns," Allen said, sticking with the story Lenalee had told her boyfriend. "And sometimes I come down and talk to the waitresses, so we just kind of met one day." Kanda looked up, narrowing his eyes. That wasn't at all the truth; he supposed Lenalee was a waitess at the stupid restaurant, but Allen was too. He looked over to see Lenalee shaking her head marginally at him. Did she not want him to say anything? He raised an eyebrow in question, but let his mouth close.

"That's cool," Lavi said. "Of course me and Yuu-chan work at the most awesome place in town."

"Maybe if you're some kind of history dweeb," Kanda snorted.

"Where do you work?" Allen asked.

"The Natural History Museum downtown," Lavi supplied. "We're security guards!"

Allen looked over to Kanda and smirked. "Fits him well, I guess," he said. Kanda looked over at him and rolled his eyes. The kid just smiled before turning back to Lavi, completely disregarding Kanda's nonverbal barbs. "I work at a coffee shop on Second Street."

"Really? Which one?" Lavi pressed excitedly.

"The Heine Brothers," Allen clarified.

"That's so cool! I love coffee!" Lavi exclaimed. "Maybe I'll stop in and see you sometime!"

"Okay," Allen said with a smile. "I generally only work that job Thursday through Sunday though."

Kanda tuned out the rest of the conversation as he processed that piece of information. He knew that the kid already worked as a waitress at the restaurant. And he also apparently worked as a barista part-time. He had said that he was saving up to go to college … but Kanda also distinctly remembered him saying that he had to work off his master's debts too. But it wasn't easy to manage several jobs at once. Luckily, Kanda's family had always been wealthy enough that he'd never had to work as a teenager. Tiedoll had just given him money whenever he needed it.

He looked over at Allen while the other was talking, not really listening to what the kid had to say, but just studying him. He was on the thin side, and his eyes were ringed with the beginnings of dark shadows. His hair was a bit on the shaggy side, in need of a trim. The sclera of his silver eyes was slightly red, probably from lack of sleep. But that wasn't what stood out the most about the kid to Kanda – no, it was the fact that even though he was smiling, Allen looked incredibly sad. He wondered why Lenalee and Lavi didn't seem aware of it.

The rest of the dinner passed rather uneventfully. Kanda still bickered with Allen, and Lavi still egged Kanda on. They ate their food – and Allen really did eat it all, much to Lavi's astonishment – and then waited while Miranda took care of the bill with Lavi's credit card. All throughout the dinner, Kanda had watched the white-haired boy – discreetly of course. He'd discovered that the kid kept fidgeting with his left hand, which was still gloved, and always put a smile on his face when he was talking to someone – unless that person was Kanda of course. Then it was more of a scowl.

As Miranda brought Lavi's card back and wished them a good evening, the redhead turned to Allen and Kanda. "Well, me and Lenalee were gonna go see a movie," he said. "You guys wanna come?"

"Seriously?" Kanda asked, glowering at his "best friend". "I had to sit through an entire dinner with you. Fat chance."

"Eh, hope springs eternal," Lavi said, shrugging. He turned to Allen. "What about you, Moyashi-chan?" Allen had asked him several times throughout dinner for the redhead to not call him that, but Lavi had ignored him completely. It looked as if Allen was past caring now.

"Oh, no, that's okay," he said. "I've got to get home anyways."

"What could you possibly be doing?" Kanda asked, rolling his eyes. "It's not like you go to school and have homework to do." It was only half meant as a jibe; the other half was slight curiosity.

"I … it's just … I've just got some figuring to do," Allen clarified. "Bills, you know." Lenalee gave him a pitying look, one which Allen ignored and Kanda noted. He was sure that Allen was hiding something, and he was intent to find out what it was.

"Ah, okay," Lavi said. "But wait … how are you gonna get home?"

Allen blinked. "I suppose I'll just walk," he said. "It's only a few miles away."

Now it was Lavi's turn to blink in confusion. "It's snowing outside," he pointed out. "You'll freeze out there!"

"It's fine," Allen insisted. "You and Lenalee go see a movie."

"Are you sure, Allen?" Lenalee asked worriedly. "We really don't mind dropping you off."

"Yeah!" Lavi piped up.

"But if you drop me off, you'll have to wait for the nine o'clock showings," Allen reminded them. "I don't want to have to make you guys wait at the theater for an hour before the movie starts." He smiled. "I'll be fine, honestly."

"WAIT!" Lavi said suddenly, smiling broadly. "I've got an idea!" He turned to Kanda. "Yuu-chan can take you home!" Kanda froze, staring at the other in his own form of shock. Fucking A - was Lavi serious?! "You guys have to live pretty close by, otherwise you'd use different laundromats!" Before Kanda could protest, the redhead looked at him sternly. "And don't say no, because I know you don't have anything else to do tonight."

Recovering from his shock, Kanda just rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered.

"That's really not necessary," Allen said. "Kanda doesn't have to take me home."

"Get up, already," Kanda demanded of Allen. "You're blocking my way out."

Allen scowled at Kanda before standing up; Lavi and Lenalee did the same. "Seriously, I'll just walk," he continued. "I feel bad enough with letting you pay for dinner, Lavi."

"Eh, don't worry about it," the redhead said dismissively, waving it off with a charming smile. He wrapped an arm around Lenalee's waist, drawing her closer to him. "A friend of Lenalee is a friend of mine." He leaned down a bit. "So I totally expect you to give me discounts on my strawberry frappuccinos."

"I-I'll try," Allen said. They started walking towards the door as a group. When they got to the parking lot, Lenalee and Lavi turned to head towards Lavi's little bright red car after some directions from Allen. Kanda started walking towards his own car – which was black and completely unassuming – and had gotten about twenty feet down the sidewalk when he realized Allen wasn't with him. Grumbling in vexation, he turned around only to see Allen walking towards the other sidewalk along the main road.

"Oi, Moyashi!" Kanda called out.

Allen stopped and looked at him. "What?" he asked.

"Where are you going?" Kanda asked. "My car is over here."

"You don't have to take me home, Kanda," Allen said, smiling faintly. "I don't mind walking."

Kanda rolled his eyes. "Would you quit being a martyr?" he demanded. "Just get in the damn car!" Spinning on his heel, he didn't even turn around to see if Allen was following him. He just stalked over to his car, yanked open the driver's door and sat down, putting his key in the ignition almost immediately. After fiddling with the dials on the heating system for a moment, he looked up – and sure enough, Allen was standing outside the passenger door.

The kid opened it hesitantly and sat down gingerly, as if he was afraid that Kanda was going to suddenly slam on the gas and kidnap him. As if. The last thing Kanda needed was an annoying brat with him. Once Allen had shut the door, he immediately backed out of the space and sped out of the parking lot. Allen cursed lightly and hurriedly put on his seatbelt.

"Goodness gracious, Kanda, you don't have to go so fast!" Allen proclaimed.

"Whatever," was his only response. "Where do you live anyway?"

"Belleview Street," Allen muttered, staring out the window. Kanda turned right and started driving down the street (even though he had to go much slower because of traffic – morons didn't seem to realize that the traffic rules were more like guidelines than actual rules). In the silence that ensued, he couldn't help but notice that Allen kept fidgeting with his left hand. After the fifth time the kid turned it over in lap, he sighed.

"What do you keep fondling your hand for?" Kanda snapped irritably. "It's just a hand."

"What?" Allen asked, startled. He thought about it for a moment, and then sighed. "I wish it was just a hand."

"Don't tell me you've got three feet," Kanda ground out, taking another right on a side street.

"Not quite," Allen said, smiling faintly.

There was silence for a moment, and then, because his curiosity was getting the better of him, Kanda asked, "So why did you not tell Lavi what you really do at that restaurant?"

Allen flushed. "Well … you know Lavi," he responded quietly. "Lenalee thought it would be better if we just told him that my guardian owned the place instead of saying that I worked there." Kanda had to admit – however grudgingly – that that was probably true. "But it wasn't a lie either. My guardian really does own the place."

"And you work at a coffee shop too?"

"And a grocery store," Allen added.

Kanda looked over at the kid sharply. "You work three jobs?" he demanded. "Why?" He looked back at the road and quickly changed lanes before turning left.

"Weren't you listening at dinner?" Allen asked, rather hollowly, Kanda noted. "I have to pay off Master's debts. And I still have to save up for college." He sighed. "My Master doesn't want to pay for anything he doesn't have to. We only have minimal insurance and won't buy anything new unless he has to. And he's horribly cheap." He smiled sadly. "I haven't gotten a Christmas present in almost eight years."

"Don't expect any sympathy from me, kid," Kanda warned him.

"No, I don't!" Allen said quickly. "I'm not stupid, whatever you might say." They turned onto Belleview Street. "It's still a ways down," he commented. "Keep going. Anyways, you wanted to know why I worked three jobs. I was just explaining."

Kanda didn't respond to that. Instead, he was busy looking at the apartments lining the roads. He didn't like the looks of this neighborhood. The buildings were old, vine-covered, and altogether looked quite dingy. Some of them probably needed to be condemned. There were alleyways between them, dark and intimidating. He only lived a few streets over, but it was remarkable the amount of difference a couple blocks could make. He lived in the lower middle-class part of town – Allen obviously lived in the poorest part.

"It's that one up there," Allen said suddenly, pointing to what had to be one of the worst buildings on the street. Kanda slowed down a bit as he approached. Several of the windows were cracked, there were chunks of cement missing from the porch stairs, a blackened fire stain near the right upper corner, the brown grass was patchy at best and there were several people smoking on the front porch, ashtrays scattered along the railing.

Kanda stopped. "This is where you live?" he asked Allen, for once with no trace of malice in his voice.

"Yep," Allen said, sighing. "It's all I could afford. The inside's not too bad though. Except when the heating system breaks. Then I have to fix it since the landlord's too cheap to hire a repairman."

"This place is a dump," Kanda said rather bluntly.

"Yeah well," Allen agreed, flushing a bit. "Hopefully when I get into college I'll be able to live in a dorm on campus." He opened up the passenger door and got out. "Thanks for dropping me off!" he said cheerfully before walking around the car and heading up the walkway to the front door. Kanda didn't move for a moment, just letting the car idle there. He waited until the people on the porch started yelling at him to buzz off before he actually moved (but not before he flipped them off).

As he drove the remaining blocks to his own apartment, he thought about everything that had happened this evening. Allen Walker certainly wasn't what he seemed; and after seeing where he lived, Kanda almost felt sorry for him.  _Almost._ Something still bugged him about the kid though. He couldn't put his finger on it just yet, but he knew he'd figure it out eventually. Evidently, since they were now mutual friends with Lavi, they'd have to see each other a lot more. As he pulled into the parking lot for his apartment complex, he realized that he hadn't really fought with Allen the entire ride home. He'd actually … found the kid's company to be not-so-terrible.

His surprise lasting only a moment, he shook his head slightly before getting out of the car and locking, pocketing his keys. Perhaps Allen wasn't such a brat. But then, thinking back on dinner … maybe he was. He snorted. Allen may look wimpy, but he could certainly dish it out as well as he took it.

But a bean sprout would always be a bean sprout. Nothing more. Nothing less.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Moyashi-chan!"

Allen looked up when he heard someone call out the annoying nickname he had been bestowed. To his surprise, he saw Lavi walking towards him, a big, goofy smile on his face. Allen wiped his hands on his apron and moved over a bit so he wouldn't be in the way of his coworkers. He smiled as the redhead approached. "Hey, Lavi," he said, reaching down to grab a cup and writing down the order on it. He handed it off to the girl beside him before taking his apron off and stepping out from behind the counter.

"Eh?" Lavi asked, surprised. "Are you sure you can just leave like that?"

Allen turned around. "Hey, Sarah, I'm taking my break now," he said. A blonde girl smiled and nodded before squirting some whipped cream on the top of a latte. He turned back to face Lavi. "Yeah." He followed the other to a small table pushed against the side of the room.

"That's so cool!" Lavi gushed. "I wish I could work here."

Allen snorted. "You'd just flirt with the girls and drink all the coffee," he said, smiling mischievously.

"Probably," Lavi agreed, nodding.

"So what did you come here for?" Allen asked curiously. "Besides coffee," he noted, pointing to the French vanilla cappuccino in his friend's hands. Apparently it had been too cold for one of those strawberry frappuccinos. "I didn't even see you come in."

"Nah, I went through the drive thru," Lavi said. "But then I realized you worked here, so I decided to come inside!" He paused to take a drink. "I got something to ask you, Moyashi-chan."

"Okay."

"Now I'm depending on you here, buddy," the red-head continued, leaning forward conspiratorially. "I can't go to anyone else for advice on this particular subject. You're my go-to guy, my number-one ally, my partner in crime, my-"

"I get it, I get it," Allen interrupted. He liked Lavi, but he didn't want to hear the guy prattle on about something forever. In the past week or so since they'd all gone out to eat together, he'd learned – rather quickly – that you had to shut Lavi up, because he sure as hell never shut up on his own. The redhead wouldn't take offense to it; but for sanity, it was a necessary thing. "What do you need my help with?"

"Christmas is coming!"

Allen blinked when there was no following statement. "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to help you with," he said. "Putting up your Christmas tree?"

Lavi laughed. "Ha-ha, of course not, Moyashi-chan!" he said. "I put mine up ages ago!" His expression turned serious. "I need to know what to get Lenalee for Christmas." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, holding his chin contemplatively. "I want to get her something … bodacious."

"Bodacious?" Allen repeated flatly.

"Yeah!" Lavi said enthusiastically. "Absolutely fan-freaking-tastic! I wanna blow her out of the water, knock her socks off, that kind of thing!" He sighed again. "The only thing is, I don't know what to get her. Sure, we've been dating for a month or two now, but I honestly have no idea."

"Well, what were you thinking of getting her?" Allen asked, trying to find some kind of starting point. He didn't really like talking about Christmas. For one thing, it wasn't like he ever got any presents, so there was no point in looking forward to it. For another, he had to spend it alone – and Christmas alone sucked, big time. But the main reason that he didn't like Christmas was because it brought up bad memories from his past. Memories that he wanted to put behind him.

"That's the thing!" Lavi said, suddenly leaning forward again. Allen made a mental note to always give him decaf coffee from now on; he was even more hyper than normal, and  _that_  was saying something. "She's not really a lotion and body stuff kind of girl. Plus I bet Komui gets her lots of that. You never wanna give a girl clothes-"

"Why not?" Allen interrupted, frowning. Lenalee loved shopping and clothes – why wouldn't she appreciate them as a gift?

"Dude," Lavi said, shaking his head. "You've never had a girlfriend before, have you?" Allen frowned at him. "You do  _not_ buy girls clothes. Trust me."

"Why not?" Allen repeated.

"Because you can never buy them something that they want," was the answer. "It'll always be the wrong color – for the record, most girls generally don't like mustard yellow – or the wrong size – and trust me, that does  _not_ go over well – or they don't like it – even though they'll say they like it when you ask." He sighed.

"Then how come girls can buy clothes for their friends?" Allen asked, slightly confused now.

"Because they're  _girls,"_ Lavi pointed out. "Girls know what other girls want. And they have this weird sixth sense about what size to get too." He shook his head. "But it's too much of a risk for me to buy her something! Hmm... I know she likes music a lot. And I know she likes reading those Fabio books."

"Fabio books?" Allen repeated. "What on earth is a Fabio book?"

"The ones that have some guy with his shirt open holding a blonde girl with big boobs on the cover," Lavi said absently. "It's always the same guy - his name's Fabio. He's some old Italian model or something. Girls love that romancey stuff. They all eat it up for some reason. I have no idea why. I've read a few myself, and they aren't that good. But she likes them." He shrugged. "So, got any ideas?"

"Why don't you just ask her what she wants?" Allen suggested. He didn't really have enough money to buy people presents, but he figured that if he did, that would be what he would do. Wasn't that just the sensible thing to do?

"WHAT?!" Lavi yelped, sounding scandalized. "No, no, no, no, no, you can't do that, Moyashi-chan!"

"And why not?" Allen asked, starting to get somewhat annoyed. He hadn't taken his morning break – his one and  _only_  morning break – just to get advice from Lavi on how to handle gift-giving in relationships. If he ever was in that kind of situation, he'd just wing it. That was his kind of style. He hadn't known that there were  _rules._

"Because then they know what you're getting them!"

"Isn't that the point?" Allen asked. "That way they aren't disappointed, and you can get them something they'll actually like."

Lavi shook his head and sighed before reaching over to rest a hand on Allen's shoulder. "Patience, my young Padawan," he said stoically. "Much to learn, you still have."

Allen rolled his eyes and shrugged off Lavi's hand. "Ok, Yoda," he said. "And I'm not a Padawan learner!"

"Geez, can't a guy use pop culture references in a sentence without getting shot down like a turkey in hunting season?" Lavi demanded of the sky. He sighed again, shaking his head. "So anyways, you think she'd like a book?"

"Would you get her something else too, or just a book?" Allen asked thoughtfully. Most of the books he saw at the bookstore were generally pretty inexpensive, especially if you bought a paperback. That was kind of a cheap present, in his opinion. "They're kind of … cheap, aren't they?"

"Eh, you got me there, Moyashi-chan!" Lavi exclaimed, giggling a bit. "Hmmm … well, how about that CD she's been wanting? The one by that Japanese boy band she likes?"

"She'd probably like that," Allen confirmed.

"I'll look into that when I get home, then," Lavi said. He looked down at the watch on his wrist and suddenly jumped up. "Crap!" Allen just looked up at him blankly as he grabbed his coffee and fumbled in his pockets for his keys. "I gotta get to class!" He threw Allen an apologetic look. "Sorry, Allen – gotta run!" He gave a mock salute before rushing out the door, nearly running some poor teenager over in the process. Allen just smiled and shook his head. Lenalee must really like him – how else would she put up with such a guy?

"Allen!"

Allen turned around when he heard his name being called yet again. Sarah was leaning over the counter, a slightly flustered look on her face. "Yeah?" he called back.

"Look, I know your break isn't over yet, but we just had a boatload of people line up in the drive thru," she explained, a sheepish look on her face. "Is there any way you could man the window? I have to run the in-store register since Caleb just got off."

He smiled. "Sure," he said, standing up.

"Thanks," she breathed, obviously relieved. "I owe you one, Allen."

"Don't worry about it," he said, grabbing his apron and putting it on. He lifted up the partition that divided the employees' space from the customers' and headed over to the drive-thru window, putting on a headset and adjusting it to fit him properly. He pushed the little button on the side of the headphone with his left hand, right hand poised over the register. "Good morning! Welcome to Heine Brothers Coffee, my name is Allen! What can I get for you today?"

* * *

Allen plopped himself down at his kitchen table, finished with dinner and its necessary clean-up. It wasn't too late, only about nine o'clock, and he had to finish up some calculations. Pulling a small stack of papers towards him, he lifted up the top sheet and stared at it for a while. It was a diagram of a building, complete with tiny pictures of doors, windows, stairs, and furniture. He sighed.

He absolutely hated maps. He didn't have a photographic memory; combined with his inherently bad sense of direction, and he was horribly bad at finding his way around. But he had to learn this one! This time, it was actually important.

So deep in thought was he that he jumped when his cell phone rang. He stared at the small device on the table; it had lit up as soon as it had started ringing. It wasn't technically  _his_  cell phone; it belonged to his Master. But the man said he needed to be able to contact Allen at any times – thus this cell phone had been one of only three gifts the man had ever given him. The other two were his laptop, Timcanpy – which was outfitted with some weird, primal artificial intelligence system – and a box of condoms – for when Allen was  _ready._ Cross had mentioned that he didn't intend on paying for yet another brat. Allen had tucked them away in a godforsaken corner of the kitchen sink cabinet, of course. But the phone and Timcanpy were nice enough.

With a sigh, he picked up the phone. He knew who it was going to be. There was only one person who ever called him on the cell phone. Everyone else used the land line to contact him. Bringing it up to his ear, he tentatively asked, "Hello?" Step one of the Counteract Cross's Naturally Crappy Attitude Plan – find out what kind of mood the insufferable man was in. Depending on the results of step one, you either went to step two or step four.

"Oi," a rough voice grunted. "I gave you the damn phone so I could reach you. Don't wait until the last time it rings before you pick it up!"

Bad mood then. Alright, now it was time to go to step two – apologize (even if he'd done nothing wrong, this was still step two). "Er, sorry, Master," he said quietly. "I was in the other room." That was a lie, and he was sure Cross knew it too, but knowing the other man, he wouldn't press the matter. He would probably just insult him a bit more.

"Idiot disciple," Cross muttered. He sighed and cleared his throat. "Do you have the diagrams?"

Allen looked down at the stack of paper in front of him. "I'm looking at them right now," he said.

"Good," Cross said. "Go to page twenty-five." He paused, giving Allen enough time to flip through the pages until he found the right one. To his surprise, this one was a sheet of music. It was insanely complex, and Allen had never seen anything like it. It was so random; it almost looked as if someone had just placed random notes on the lines and then connected them. "It's music, right?" He was drawn from his thoughts by his master's prompting voice.

"Yes," Allen replied.

"Memorize how to play that," Cross told him. "By the end of next month."

"For what?" Allen asked. He wasn't surprised by this rather random request from Cross. The one thing Cross had done for him in their years spent traveling the globe on trips – since Cross worked for the government, though he was currently undercover – was had him taught music. He had an aptitude for it, and he was pretty darn good at playing piano if he didn't say so himself. He wasn't as fond of his singing voice, but everyone that he'd sang for had said it was nice to listen to as well.

"The same mission I've been working on for the past few years," Cross retorted. "What the hell else would it be for? Idiot." Allen sighed as he carried out step three – go along with whatever the man said, and do what he wanted, ignoring all insults no matter how hurtful they were. "Just learn the music and memorize it for me."

"Alright." Allen blinked as the line went dead. Taking the phone away from his ear, he shook his head when he'd discovered that the man had hung up on him. Honestly, did the guy have no manners? How hard was it to say good-bye? That was only one word, two syllables and seven letters. While two year old's could say good-bye, Cross apparently couldn't. What irony. But then again, the man did have a mental age of about two, since he did whatever he wanted and refused to do things he didn't want to do.

Pushing himself back from the table, he picked up the stack of papers and made his way into his small bedroom, turning off the light in the kitchen. He set the papers down on the bedside table and picked up the sheet of music before heading over to the small keyboard that was set up in the corner. It was his prized possession, the one thing he'd splurged on. It wasn't a great keyboard, and it was rather old – but it made music, and that was the important thing. Sitting down on a stool, he set the music up in front of him. The lighting in this room was naturally bad, so he had to squint a little and lean over to read the music, limiting the amount of free space his fingers had.

Slowly, he began to play, focusing on getting the notes and rhythms right, and not on speed. As he began to play, he discovered that it was actually a beautiful piece of music. It was hauntingly beautiful, a sad melody in a minor key that made you wonder what the composer had been thinking of while writing it. Soon enough, he found himself finished. It wasn't too long – only about five minutes or so, and that was at a slower tempo than the piece dictated.

Taking a brief break to crack his knuckles, he bent over and began to play again. The piece may've been easy slow, but he still had a long way to go before he was up to speed. And those rhythms were gonna be a bitch at molto allegro.

* * *

Kanda stared at the computer screen before him, asking himself for the millionth time that night why in God's name he was doing this. Ever since that night about a week and a half ago when he'd been forced to go out to eat with Lavi and the other two, he couldn't get that kid out of his head. He wasn't sure why he was so curious about the brat – since he normally wasn't bothered about mere acquaintances – but there was something there that piqued his interest. Which was why he found himself combing the website of that stupid restaurant where Allen worked as a waitress.

To be honest, he was just looking for anything that seemed suspicious. Allen had said that his Master owned the place. That was how he'd gotten a job there so easily and how he kept his gender hidden so effectively. He'd looked through the online menu, as well as the biography section, and he'd even taken a look at the page that gave information on how to set up a get-together or sports party. Nothing had really caught his interest. With a sigh, he clicked on the tab near the top of the site that said Employment.

He was instantly taken to another page with a detailed list of qualifications – though Kanda suspected anyone with breasts would be hired, based on Allen's previous comments – and posted available positions. At the bottom of the page, it gave a list of managers and their phone numbers, in case you wanted to talk to someone about work experiences. It also gave the name of the owner;  _that_ was what caught Kanda's eyes.

Cross Marian. He knew that name. That man was in the government, one of the agents that worked for the CIA as spies and secret operatives. One of the youngest top-class agents in recent history, actually; he was supposedly quite competent, but had a reputation for being a womanizing cheapskate who only did those assignments that suited his fancy. He also had a reputation for disappearing at the most inopportune times imaginable. And how did he know all this?

Tiedoll, of course.

Tiedoll had once been a spy, but he'd retired from the agency several years ago. He hadn't been in field work for a long time, but he'd been kept around as the second-in-command for a while because of his eye for detail and genial manner. The artist job was just a cover-up. Well, now it wasn't, but for a long time, it had been. It had made things even easier, to be honest – the old man had had an excuse to go around the world without rival governments getting suspicious.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. But why would Cross Marian be here, running a restaurant? The restaurant had been in business for about two years now. That would mean that the man was either running a long-term mission in the area, or was running away. Or both. He quickly moved away from that site, heading to a search engine and typing in the man's name. Many different hits popped up, mostly in blogs from woman who were either pissed beyond all knowledge that he'd basically slept with him and then left or were mourning his absence and begging him to come back. There was also the restaurant website. But he wasn't looking for a sob story or a article from a scorned hit-it-and-quit-it.

He clicked on the first biography that he saw. It was an official government site, and as such had a locked-in password combination. The page wasn't accessible for normal people. He smirked. He'd seen this security program before. It was a cakewalk to hack into. And with all the free time that Lavi assumed he spent doing nothing, he'd perfected the art of hacking into computers. It was so  _easy._ He opened up a separate program and began using a few encoding scripts to get some information. Honestly, with all the money the government was dumping down the drain on stupid shit, you'd think they could at least buy a decent security program.

But no.

After a few minutes of waiting, he'd gotten the codes to the access page. Memorizing them quickly, he exited the second program and went back to the internet, typing in the codes. Immediately, the locked page popped up. He sorted through the random e-mails that came up from the person's identity that he was using to view the page. When he got back to the biography, he began to read.

Luckily, it was very in-depth, and was right on target with his assumptions about Cross's real job. Apparently, he used a golden pistol as his weapon; Kanda couldn't understand why anyone would use such a flashy, not to mention tacky, weapon. He preferred swords, though even he would admit they weren't as useful in modern day settings as they were in his martial arts classes. Apparently, Cross was in his early thirties, a chronic smoker and alcoholic with a talent for gambling. He was absolutely uncanny at escaping from tricky situations and had never once failed on a mission. He had enough clout to hand-pick the missions he wanted, as well as enough leeway to get away with practically anything.

Kanda froze when the article suddenly mentioned someone he hadn't expected to find there – Allen Walker. He read that paragraph out loud, as if to assure himself that it was really there. "Cross's charge, a young man from Great Britain named Allen Walker – whom Cross adopted after the unfortunate death of his caretaker, Mana Walker – is perhaps the greatest weapon in this agent's arsenal. Known worldwide in the underground for his incredible pecuniary skills, Walker has long been Cross's personal secretary, keeping all his mission files and filling out his paperwork for him.

"Walker is not an agent himself, though it has been assumed by many that he would be welcomed with open arms into the organization should he ever profess a desire to do so. Many of his skills are related to those of a common thief, apparently gained from his rough childhood that predated that of his life with Mana Walker, and include being an accomplished pickpocket, lock picker, acrobat, and musician, specifically a pianist. His age is roughly estimated at about twenty years, and his whereabouts are currently unknown."

Kanda sat back in his chair. The Moyashi – an accomplished sidekick to a personal elite government operative? He shook his head. No way. The whole thing was just too ridiculous to be true. There was no way – no fucking way in hell that the brat did anything like that … right?

He blinked as he heard the phone ring. With a sigh – he had a guess as to who it was – he closed the internet browser and stood up to walk into the kitchen. He yanked the phone up and held it up to his ear. "What?"

"Hey, Yuu-chan!" Fuck. Why were his suspicions always right? For once in his life, couldn't he be pleasantly surprised? Couldn't it have been  _someone else?_ Anyone was better than Lavi.

"What?" Kanda repeated, leaning against the wall.

"I got a question for ya!"

"Then spit it out," Kanda grunted, glaring across the room at the sink.

"So … whaddaya think I should get Allen for Christmas?" Lavi asked. "I have no idea what to get him!"

"... you're asking  _me_ this?" Kanda asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes," the redhead said slowly. "So, got any ideas?"

"How about a muzzle to keep him from talking so much," Kanda suggested bluntly.

"Yuu-chan!" Lavi said, sounding shocked. "Allen's not a dog!"

"Really, Lavi?" Kanda asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "I would've never known if you hadn't told me."

"Well, you're welcome for that," the other said happily. "So, I was thinking of getting him a coat."

"A coat."

"Yeah!" Lavi said emphatically. "Haven't you ever noticed how he's always wearing just a jacket, or a hoodie? I've never seen him wear a coat! I asked him about it once, and he just said that he couldn't afford one, so he layered up." Kanda supposed that was right, now that he thought about it – he had never once seen Allen wear a coat. "So, whaddaya think?"

"He would probably like anything you got him, Lavi," Kanda said, surprisingly neutral. He couldn't help but recall his last conversation with the kid when he was taking Allen home. He'd said that he hadn't gotten a Christmas present in almost eight years. You could've probably bought Allen a pet rock and he would've been happy about it.

"Hmmm, you wouldn't happen to know his size, would you?"

"Extra small," Kanda said, smirking.

He heard Lavi laugh on the other end. "I don't think he's that tiny, Yuu-chan!" he said. "I think I'll go for small though. And probably something in black. That would go really well with his hair, don't you think?" Kanda made no comment. "Oh! What do you want for Christmas, Yuu?"

"You to move to Antarctica," Kanda muttered in all seriousness.

"Meh, no can do, Yuu-chan!" Lavi said. "I've got responsibilities here!"

"Che, 'responsibility' ... I don't think that word means what you think it means."

"Oh, don't be so mean! You'll never get a date that way!"

"What makes you think I'm looking for a date?" Kanda asked dangerously. Lavi had tried to get him to go out on blind dates quite frequently, but his answer was always no. He had told the stupid redhead that when he found someone who interested him enough, he'd ask them out. And he would - he did not need Lavi's help to procure a date ... regardless of the fact that almost no one he met caught his attention.

"Oh, nothing, nothing, not a thing," Lavi said quickly.

"That's what I thought," Kanda said, his smirk returning. "Are you done now?"

"Wait, don't hang up yet!" Lavi said. Kanda waited for the following sentence, anticipating another invitation of sorts. "Okay, so you know how Christmas is only one and a half weeks away? Well, I was gonna throw a party this Friday! Lavi's Christmas Extravaganza! I totally expect you to be there, Yuu-chan."

"A party?" Kanda asked blankly. "You expect me to come to a Christmas party that you're throwing?"

"Well, you  _are_ my best pal, you know!" Lavi pointed out. "You don't have to stay for the whole time. Just drop in and say hi for an hour or so! It's from eight to one at Gramps' house." Lavi lived at his grandfather's house; coincidentally, Kanda had figured out that the old geezer who ran the help desk at the museum happened to be Lavi's grandfather and legal guardian. Apparently, his parents had died when he was young. "But remember to wear something festive!"

Kanda snorted - like he had anything festive in his closet. His color pallet included blue, black, gray, white and an occasional dark purple item. He certainly did not wear anything green or red. They were atrocious, garish colors that hurt his eyes. Together, they were even worse.

"Lenalee's gonna be there," Lavi went on. He then continued to know off a list of people they knew from either work or their classes. Kanda didn't recognize all the names, but he knew a few of them. Most of them were Lavi's friends. His brothers had also been invited. Well, maybe he'd go for an hour and talk to Marie; he was pretty tolerable. "Ah, but Allen won't be there, Yuu-chan! Isn't that so sad?"

"Why not?" Kanda asked absently.

"He has to work until ten, and then get up early for his job on Saturday," Lavi explained. "I told him I'd save him some candy though! He loves sweets, apparently."

"Figures," Kanda muttered.

"So, you're gonna come, right?" Lavi asked.

"I'll think about it," Kanda said, knowing full well that if he didn't show up for at least a half an hour he would be dragged there anyways. He'd go for as little time as possible and then get the hell out of there and get something to eat that wasn't sweet or fruity or anything else like that. He hated sweet things. They were so cloying and sticky.

Before Lavi could say anything else, he hung up the phone. Walking back into the living room, he sat down at the computer again, staring at the screensaver floating across the screen. Pushing his recent conversation aside, he thought back to what he'd read about Allen.

It couldn't be true, could it? It just didn't seem rational. If he was so good at gambling, why the heck was the kid so poor? Unless, of course, he wasn't really poor at all and the squalor and sob story were just a cover-up. But then again, Cross had a reputation for being horribly cheap. If he was working on a long-term mission here and had to set up a fake identity, then of course he'd make the brat live away from him. Kanda wasn't stupid; in fact, once he was finished with college, he intended to follow in Tiedoll's footsteps. He had studied many of the cases that Tiedoll had finished when he was younger. He knew how these people worked.

With a sigh, he pushed himself up and wearily went over to the phone again. There was no helping it. As much as he didn't like being backed into a corner like this, he needed to call Tiedoll. He needed to talk to the man as soon as possible.

* * *

"Hey, Allen, you're a guy, right?" Lenalee asked him, absently swirling a stirring stick in her cup of hot chocolate.

Allen choked on his own cup of the hot liquid, coughing violently for a moment or two before being able to respond. Flushing, he murmured, "Well, if I'm not, I've been buying the wrong underwear." Lenalee smiled at him. "Why?"

"Well… " she trailed off, taking a sip before continuing. "I want to know what to get Lavi for Christmas. I really want to get him something good, only I have no idea what. My brother gets all defensive any time I talk to him about it. He thinks he's the only one I should buy things for." She shook her head affectionately, and Allen couldn't help but smile a bit. He had always wanted a sibling; most of his friends had them. Of course, he didn't want a completely neurotic one like Komui Lee, but a normal brother or sister wouldn't have been so bad. However, Cross wasn't in the habit of adopting stray kids; to be honest, he had no idea why the man had picked him up in the first place. He had never been shy of expressing his dislike of having to drag a kid around with him.

"Well, what were you thinking of getting him?" Allen asked, sighing internally. Was why everyone he knew asking  _him_  what to get their lover for the holidays? Did he have some kind of sign on his forehead? Did he put out a vibe that just screamed, "I'M HELPFUL!" It wasn't just Lavi and Lenalee – many of his coworkers had done the same thing. It was getting a little old, actually – not to mention it was like pouring lemon juice in a fresh papercut, since he wasn't expecting anything for Christmas. It stung a bit, despite his best efforts to suppress the feeling.

"Um … I really have no idea," she confessed. "He doesn't smoke, so I can't get him a lighter. He already has a watch. I'm pretty sure he's read all of the books at the bookstore. He doesn't need any clothes or shoes." She sighed. "I have no idea!"

"Well, why don't you get him a gift card or something?"

"Allen!" she exclaimed, her jaw dropping open. "You can't just get someone a gift card!"

This was beginning to sound like his conversation with Lavi, he thought ironically. "And why not?" he asked flatly.

"That's just so … it's so impersonal!" Lenalee said. "You get people gift certificates when you don't know them well enough to get them an actual present. Either that, or they're not important enough to waste valuable time and effort shopping for them." She shook her head. "Lavi needs something special."

"A wallet?" Allen suggested weakly.

"Why would he want a wallet?" Lenalee asked, tilting her head to the side somewhat.

"It was just a suggestion," Allen said, waving it off dismissively. "Perhaps you should make him something!"

"… make him something?"

"Yeah," Allen said, nodding. "Like, bake a cake or something, or cookies. Oh! You like to make that beaded jewelry, don't you?" Lenalee nodded, following him. "Well, you could always make him a necklace or something. I'm sure he'd wear it."

She thought about it for a moment. "Well, Lavi does like sweets," she said slowly. After a few more moments, she broke out into a huge, beaming smile. "That's a great idea, Allen! You're so smart; I knew you would come up with the perfect gift!"

They chatted for a few more minutes until Lenalee had to go back to class. After she'd left, Allen stayed sitting down, absently stirring his drink. He knew he shouldn't be feeling so sulky right now. He'd told his friends not to get him anything for Christmas. He certainly couldn't get them anything in return, so what was the point? He sighed. He shouldn't be feeling so … jealous. Yes, that was the right word, no matter how ugly it was. He didn't need gifts to let him know his friends cared about him, he didn't need presents. He didn't even need a lover to make him feel appreciated. Nope, he was perfectly happy on his own.

He looked up as the bell above the café's door chimed. To his immense surprise, Kanda walked in the door, his coat drawn in around him. He apparently didn't see Allen, just walking straight up to the counter and ordering a cup of coffee – black, naturally. Allen fidgeted around with his cup nervously, half hoping that he would be seen and half hoping he would be ignored. He couldn't say what it was about Kanda, but Allen liked the other man. Perhaps it was because he was so different from anyone else he knew.

Kanda took you as you were. He didn't judge you based on your status or your appearance. He judged you based on your personality. He wasn't sympathetic and he certainly wasn't pitying, nor did he beat around the bush; Lavi and Lenalee felt sorry for him. He could see it in their eyes whenever he pulled a fraying thread off a shirt or ordered a small instead of a large. Kanda didn't really care for sob stories – he seemed to have a policy that if you worked hard enough, you could do anything. Actually, Kanda probably could, Allen surmised.

"Moyashi?"

Allen looked up to see Kanda staring straight at him, surprise in his dark eyes. His facial expression hadn't changed at all though. Allen had quickly gathered that Kanda's emotions were only really visible in his eyes. It was like his facial muscles didn't work properly. Perhaps he'd had Botox. "H-hi, Kanda," he stammered out, scolding himself internally for sounding stupid. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting coffee," Kanda replied, rolling his eyes. "What else would I be here for?" He looked down at Allen's cup of hot chocolate. "I thought you said you didn't eat out a lot." Allen recalled having mentioned something like that at the dinner they'd all attended, but he didn't expect Kanda to have remembered. But really, did hot chocolate really count as eating out? He doubted it.

"I work here," he said flatly. "I'm allowed to get free drinks every now and then."

Kanda paused for a moment. He finally just snorted and - to Allen's surprise - moved to sit down across from him. He took a sip of his coffee before sitting back. Allen scrunched his nose up in distaste.

"Aren't you going to put any sugar in that?" he asked.

"No," Kanda said tersely. "I hate sweet things."

"How can you hate sweets?" Allen asked incredulously. "Everyone likes sweets!"

"Well, not me."

Allen smiled lightly. "I guess I should've expected that," he admitted. Kanda looked over at him questioningly. "You don't really seem like the type of person who'd like sweets."

"And you seem like you love sweets, like a kid," Kanda retorted. Allen would've normally taken offense at that, but Kanda's tone was … almost … teasing? No, that couldn't be right. But either way, it didn't sound malicious.

"I do like sweets," Allen agreed. "It's probably because I don't get them very often."

Kanda shook his head. "Why do you put up with your stupid Master anyways?" he asked.

"What?" He certainly hadn't been expecting  _that_ to come out of Kanda's mouth next.

"You said that you had to pay off his debts," Kanda continued, looking away. "You're a legal adult now, so he's not technically your guardian anymore. So why don't you just drop him and live your own life?"

Allen had certainly thought about that before. It would make things a hell of a lot easier. But he couldn't do that, for reasons he couldn't give to Kanda. "I can't do that," he said, shaking his head. He quickly made up a small lie that he knew the other wouldn't question. "It's really the debts from when I was younger that I'm paying off. Plus, he took me in even when I wasn't related to him … I guess I just feel like I owe him."

"You do know that he's just using you, right?"

Allen blinked. "What?" he asked slowly.

"You think I don't know who owns that restaurant, who your  _Master_ is?" Kanda asked. "Che, think again, Moyashi. From what I've heard of him, he's a womanizing bastard who's notorious for randomly disappearing to get out of his debts. People like him don't care who has to foot the bill as long as it's not them. At this rate, you'll never go to college."

Allen breathed an internal sigh of relief. For a moment there, it had sounded like Kanda knew about his Master's real job! Now it seemed as if he'd just read around about the man's reputation – which was really wasn't all that hard to find if you looked on the internet. The biographies, however, were few and far between; it would take a true computer genius to hack into any database for Cross Marian's information. "Well … that might be true," he admitted. "But I'll take my chances."

Kanda shook his head. "You're too trusting, Moyashi."

"Well, I'd rather be too trusting and optimistic than be as cynical as you are," Allen retorted, frowning at the other.

Kanda looked back over at him, his eyes hard. "Why shouldn't I be cynical?" he asked. "It's not about being pessimistic. It's about being realistic, Moyashi. If you're realistic about a situation, you won't be disappointed when the outcomes are bad."

"But not every situation has a bad result, Kanda," Allen said quietly.

Kanda blinked at him, and then smirked. "You really are that naive, aren't you? Either that, or you're a really fucking good actor."

Allen stared at him for a moment, and then chanced a question. "Why are you like this, Kanda?" he asked quietly. "Something had to have happened to make you this way. No one's born a cynic."

Kanda froze up suddenly. He looked at Allen, and his eyes were very cold. Allen sat back in his chair almost immediately, his eyes widening. He hadn't expected such a response. "You want to know what happened to me?" the dark-haired man asked quietly. Allen nodded timidly. "You want to know why I'm so negative, so pessimistic, so cynical?" He stood up then, grabbing his cup of coffee. "Try being cursed by your own family and see how positive you can be."

Allen winced as he stalked over to the exit and slammed the door shut. He really hadn't meant to get such a rise out of the other guy! He had just asked a simple question. But he supposed he should've known better. Kanda was a person of extremes – most of the time negative. It would make sense that he wouldn't want to talk about his past. But Allen could sympathize with his sort-of-friend. He knew what it was like to be cursed by your family.

After all, that what was his father had wasted his dying breath doing.


	6. Chapter 6

Kanda made sure to slam the door behind him as he walked into the front door of his foster father's house. Daisya, who was sitting on the couch, looked up from his magazine and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, didn't expect to see you today," he said dryly. He let the magazine slip shut, though he still marked his place with a finger.

"So?" Kanda snapped, pocketing his car keys.

"Ouch, it bites," Daisya said, rolling his eyes. He opened his magazine and looked down at the pictures once more.

"Where's the old man?" Kanda asked, looking around. There was no one else in the living room or the kitchen, which meant he was going to have to do some searching. Great. Just what he wanted to spend his Saturday morning doing – looking for errant old men.

"I dunno," Daisya said absently. "Probably in his studio painting. Where else would he be on this glorious, sunny morning?"

Kanda decided to ignore that blatant invitation for an argument and instead walked out of the living room and down the hallway towards a room at the back of the house. He had been living on his own for close to three years now, but he still knew the place like the back of his hand. Of course, there was also the fact that Tiedoll never changed anything – not even the layout of the furniture. The only time something was replaced in this house was if it broke, and even then he cried at the loss of an item's sentimental value.

He didn't knock on the door to the art studio. Instead, he just pushed the sliding door open and stared inside. He blinked a bit as the harsh sunlight from all five of the windows streamed into his unprepared eyes. The art studio was Tiedoll's pride and joy. It was the main reason he'd bought this house. The room was octagonal in shape, and five of the walls were covered in floor-to-ceiling length windows. The only other wall that wasn't being occupied by a door had a sink attached to it, wooden cabinets overhead.

In the center of the room was an easel and stool. All around the room, scattered on various pieces of canvas, were finished paintings, sketches, and other pieces of art. Another small open cupboard contained brushes, tubes of paint and all sorts of other art supplies. Kanda only knew that because that was where Tiedoll used to hide his toys if he'd been "bad" as a kid. Pretty obvious hiding place, to be honest.

The room smelled of turpentine and cedar wood. Kanda wrinkled his nose at the smell. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but it wasn't a favorable odor in any case. Though to be fair, he wasn't one for aromatics at all, be they artificial or natural. Well, the smell of rain wasn't so bad. But that was it. He especially hated cologne and perfume that people wore. They were so cloying and pungent. He supposed some of the stuff  _c_ _ould_ smell nice if people didn't practically bathe in it. But lots of people needed to redefine their standards of "enough".

Tiedoll was, sure enough, standing in the middle of the room, a paint palette in one hand and a brush in the other. He was wearing a pair of beat-up old jeans and a paint-splattered green shirt. Apparently, the apron over his clothes wasn't doing its job very well. His hair was held back with little pink butterfly hairclips – where he'd gotten those, Kanda didn't want to know. There was more paint smudged on his face and his glasses were askew.

"Oi," Kanda grunted, making his presence known.

Tiedoll turned around and his eyes widened in surprise. "Yuu!" he said, setting down his palette and brush. He wiped his hands on his apron before his face broke out into a huge smile. "I didn't expect to see you today - what a pleasant surprise!"

"I suppose," Kanda said.

"Well, we are your family, after all. You might think of visiting us more often," Tiedoll said wistfully. "But still, you're here! Do you want something to eat? It's almost lunchtime, isn't it?" He looked down at a wristwatch and nodded. "Yes, it is. I think I'll just have a sandwich for lunch. So do you want something? I can make you my special Super Sassy Salami Sandwich!"

"No, thanks," Kanda said flatly. The last time he'd eaten anything over here, he'd gotten food poisoning – the old geezer had conveniently  _forgotten_ that he'd been painting with lead-based paint, despite the fact that it was illegal here to do so (it was for the color, of course, those non-lead-based paints just didn't compare!). He hadn't even washed his hands!

"Ah, well, that's too bad," Tiedoll said. "So, what did you come here for? I know you wouldn't have come without a reason." He shook his head. "Though I have no idea why… " Trailing off, he walked over to the windows and sat down on the window seat that ran the whole length of the five panes of glass.

Kanda rolled his eyes and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "What do you know about Cross Marian?" he asked quietly.

Tiedoll frowned and uncrossed his arms. "Cross… Marian?" he repeated.

"That's what I said, wasn't it?" Kanda said irritably. He hated it when people repeated questions instead of replying. It seemed diversionary, and he preferred straightforwardness. "He's an agent in the government group you used to work for. You know who he is, so don't try and bullshit me."

"No, no, I know who Cross is," Tiedoll said quietly. "But how… how do  _you_  know who he is, Yuu?"

Kanda snorted. "I cracked into the government's information database, how else would I know?" he snapped. He moved into the room, sitting down a few feet away from the older man and crossing his arms over his chest.

"WHAT?!" Tiedoll yelped. "Yuu, that's illegal!" He sounded quite scandalized.

Kanda turned to give him a flat look. "So?"

" _So_?" Tiedoll repeated, blinking. "So you could end up in jail if anyone finds out!" He sighed, and then looked up to the heavens, as if awaiting divine intervention. "Where did I go wrong?" he asked the ceiling. "What did I do?"

Kanda rolled his eyes. He had to physically force himself not to snap at the old man to put a sock in it and just answer the question; but, after all, this was the man who had raised him – he owed the man at least a modicum of respect. Just a very, miniscule, practically infinitesimal bit of respect. So he waited until the man had calmed down a bit and sighed before looking back over at him. "What do you want to know about Marian?" Tiedoll asked, clearly resigned.

"Apparently, he's been working on an assignment for several years now, in this area of the country," Kanda said quietly. "There wasn't anything on what the assignment was, but it did say he's set up a private base here." His eyes flashed as he looked over at his adoptive father. "He was given that assignment about five years ago. That's just about the time you quit."

Tiedoll blinked at him. "So what exactly are you asking me, Yuu?" he asked quietly. He looked down at his lap, as if he knew the answer to his own question and yet wanted to hear the other say it. Kanda knew that that was probably what was happening. The old man was terribly easy to read – how he'd become a spy, the dark-haired man would never know.

"What was that assignment?"

Tiedoll sighed. "I thought that was what you were going to ask," he said. "But I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"And why not?"

"Because that is classified information," Tiedoll said, running a hand through his hair – well the little puffball in the back that wasn't obstructed by the My Little Pony clips. "When you leave the agency, you are required to take an oath of silence. I can't tell you what the assignment or anything else other than what you already know."

Kanda clenched his teeth. "Fine," he muttered. He had figured that Tiedoll would give him this kind of honoring-the-oath answer, but he'd had to take a shot. "Don't tell me about the assignment. Tell me who he's up against."

"Yuu-"

"Oh, cut the crap," Kanda snapped. "I've read the words to your stupid oath of silence. I know what it says. You can't repeat anything confidential. Well, this isn't confidential. Anyone could go out and look up stuff about criminals."

Tiedoll paused for a moment before answering. "There is a syndicate in this country currently looking for a way to capture control of nuclear testing facilities," he said slowly, as if he was considering each word as he said it. "Their main base is located here. No one is sure what their final objectives are. There have been many attempts to break into their hideout, but all have been unsuccessful."

"And that's where Cross comes in, right?" Kanda asked. Tiedoll didn't answer; that told him he was right. "Figures as much." He supposed that if there was a top-secret, potentially dangerous criminal syndicate in a country he ran, he would send one of his best agents to try and destroy it as well. But why only one? He belatedly remembered then that Cross didn't work alone – he had Allen with him. But honestly, what could the brat do against a group of terrorists? Allen didn't exactly inspire fear.

"Their name is NOAH," Tiedoll went on. "They call themselves a clan, and it appears as if they are somehow all distantly related. No one knows what the acronym stands for, though it could just be a name. They all seem to have a fascination with the biblical story of Noah's Ark."

Kanda's only response was a derisive snort.

"Is that all you wanted, Yuu?" Tiedoll asked, standing up and turning away from him to look outside. "I've really said more than I should have."

"I won't say anything. And no one is going to ask. So who's going to ever find out?" Kanda demanded, standing up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a DVD case (the remnants from the last Tiedoll Family Movie Night) and dropped it onto the window seat. Tiedoll half-looked over his shoulder to see the movie and then broke out into a beaming smile.

"Oh, so you liked the movie?" he asked delightedly. "I was wondering where that was! If you'd wanted to borrow it, you should've just said so!"

Kanda glared at the man. "Why the hell would I ever want to borrow a stupid Cinderella knock-off?" he asked, slightly offended at the notion. "You left it at my place the last time you came over."

"Oh, did I?" Tiedoll asked, his smile slipping a bit. But it soon came back full-force. "Well, you know how it is." He laughed a bit and rapped a fist against the side of his skull. "The old keester's not what he used to be!"

Kanda whirled around and left the room before he massacred something.

* * *

"Look, kid, you understand that your rent ain't been paid yet this month."

"Yes, I understand, sir, but-"

"Ya see, I'm runnin' an enterprise here. I can't afford to keep up your apartment if ya ain't gonna pay the damn rent! It's once a month! That too hard for ya to understand?"

"No, sir," Allen said quietly.

"Good to know," the landlord said, sighing. "So listen here – I'ma give ya one more week to get the money. Just slip it in the mailbox outside the door. Got that? One more week. If ya ain't got the money by then, ya can say good-bye to your little flat."

"I understand," Allen said. "Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever," the man said gruffly, muttering as he hung up the phone.

Allen grimaced as he hung up the phone in his kitchen. He really never meant to get behind in his rent – honestly. You would think that paying rent would be easy for him considering how many jobs he worked. But Cross made sure that most of that money went to paying off his own debts. He had to siphon out little portions of his paychecks to make sure he didn't get evicted. And wouldn't that be horrible – no place to live, three jobs, and a couple suitcases worth of crap to lug around? He shuddered just thinking about it.

Moving quietly into his bedroom, he sat down on his makeshift piano bench, staring at the music before him. Instead of focusing on the music, he just put his hands on the keys and began to play, letting his eyes drift shut. He'd spent a lot of time over the years memorizing certain pieces of music – his favorites, Cross's favorites … Mana's favorites. He couldn't afford to carry around huge folders of music. It was just easier to memorize them. The one he was currently playing was one of his favorites. It was soft and quiet, beautiful but with a hauntingly sad melody that enchanted him.

He let himself get completely absorbed in the music, not caring that he probably looked ridiculous with his eyes closed and his entire body moving with the emotions behind the piece. This had been one of the first pieces he'd ever heard played by a professional pianist. It had enraptured him from the very beginning. At the time, he'd been living with his original foster parent – Mana Walker. Mana had seen how much he'd loved the piece, and had bought him the music for it.

Whenever he played this piece, it reminded him of Mana. It was sweet, but with a dark edge that spoke of things better left behind. It wasn't overbearing or repetitive, having enough variation to be interesting. He absently found himself thinking of Mana, seeing his face in his mind's eye. He saw the man he'd come to call his father smiling, laughing, talking – even sleeping. And then he saw the face he loved so much drawn into an expression of anger, something close to the wrath that was only brought upon betrayal.

His fingers fell slack against the keys as his eyes snapped open. He didn't notice his breathing was shaky until he realized that there was cold sweat on his brow. He looked down at the piano and hastily snatched his hands away from the keys. He couldn't play any more tonight. No. He was done. He moved to stand up.

"Good Lord!" he yelped as the phone rang just then, breaking the silence with its wail. Picking himself up off the floor from where he'd fallen, he hastily moved into the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Moyashi-chan, my little man!"

Allen smiled wearily. "Hi, Lavi," he said.

"Hi, hi, hi! So, I know you already said that you couldn't come Friday night, but I was just calling to make sure… you really can't come to my Christmas Extravaganza?" His tone was rushed and petulant, like a little kid who wanted something really badly and yet knew they probably wouldn't get it.

Allen blinked, taking a few seconds to process the words. When he'd gotten the gist, he sighed. "Lavi, you know I can't," he said. "I have to work that night. I really would like to go, you  _know_  I would, but I'm already behind on my rent. If I don't get the money soon, I'll be evicted."

"Oh, but then you could just come live with me, Moyashi-chan!" Lavi proclaimed happily. "Then we'd be roommates! Wouldn't that be amazing?!"

"It would be something, alright," Allen murmured to himself. "And that's nice of you, Lavi, but I really couldn't impose on you like that!"

"Fine," Lavi said with a sigh. "But I'm saving you some cake! You're too skinny, honestly! You should eat up! You're never gonna get a date if you don't get some meat on your bones!"

"Lavi, I already told you that I just have a really high metabolism," Allen said patiently. He'd had this discussion with his new redheaded friend several times over the past week or so – and it always ended the same way. He was beginning to wonder if Lavi had short-term memory loss. "I eat a lot. I just never seem to be able to gain any weight. It'll probably come back to bite me when I hit forty."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Lavi said quickly. Allen heard what sounded like a doorbell in the background. "Hey, listen, Moyashi-chan, I gotta jet. I got some company now!"

"You have to  _jet_ … ?" Allen asked flatly.

Lavi made a frustrated noise. "Again with the pop culture references!" he exclaimed. "Do you never watch TV?!" He sighed. "Well, anyways, I have to leave – there, you happy now? – so I'll talk to ya later."

"Okay," Allen murmured, putting the phone back on the receiver as Lavi hung up. He stood there for a moment, not sure of what to do. He didn't want to go back into his bedroom, not right now. The memories that just playing the piano had evoked were too painful. He looked over at the clock on the stove. It was only about eight. There was still plenty of time to go and do something before it got too late.

Making up his mind, he quickly trudged into his living room and grabbed his shoes, pulling them on. He grabbed the key to his apartment, his cell phone, and his wallet – the lock was too poor to keep a determined thief out – and pocketed them before heading outside. He didn't know where he was going just yet. All that he knew was that he needed to  _go._

* * *

Kanda walked slowly along the sidewalk, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his black coat. It was getting late at night, but he didn't want to go back to his apartment just yet. Despite the fact that he generally disliked most people he came into contact with, he surprisingly didn't like being in his apartment by himself that much. There was nothing to do there. He liked the peace and quiet. But that didn't necessarily mean that he liked being alone.

He stopped at the gate to the city park. There were a few people still roaming along the pathways and sitting on the wooden benches, but it was a rather atmosphere. Just the way he liked it. Stepping forward, he started to walk along the main path aimlessly. He didn't pay attention to the people on the side of the road, even when they turned to look at him.

After a few minutes of wandering, he found himself staring at the foot of a small, arching wooden bridge that spanned a length of pond water to an island on the other side. He paused for a moment. Sitting down on the bridge was a figure, staring at the water absently. He blinked. It was obvious to him who it was. No one else he knew had practically radioactive hair.

"Moyashi, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, stepping forward so that he was standing at the base of the bridge.

Allen's head jerked up to look at him, his eyes wide with surprise. "Kanda?" he asked. He shook his head. "I was just taking a walk."

"Did you forget that walking implies moving?" Kanda asked flatly.

To his surprise, instead of snapping something back at him, Allen just smiled faintly, staring down at the water. "No," he said softly. "I got tired of walking, so I just sat down here." He sighed, and then turned to look back at Kanda. "And what are you doing here? It's hard to imagine you going for a peaceful stroll in the park."

Kanda thought about it for a minute. Why was he taking a walk again? Oh, right – he hadn't wanted to go back to his apartment just yet. Walking had seemed like the best way to take his mind off things, namely what the hell Allen and his  _Master_ were doing here. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about it all day. And what Tiedoll had said had only made his curiosity worse.

"Alright then, don't answer me," Allen said suddenly, a touch sullen.

Kanda blinked. He must've been silent for quite a long time as he'd thought about his answer. "I was just thinking," he said. "I was going to answer you."

"Oh, really?"

"I was trying to clear my head," Kanda replied, walking over to stand about three feet away from Allen. He leaned back against the railing so that he was facing the opposite direction.

"Clear your head?" Allen asked.

"Yes, from thinking," Kanda snapped, frowning. "You know, that mental process you don't seem to indulge in too much."

"I do too think," Allen retorted. He fell silent then, staring at the water's surface. Kanda saw out of the corner of his eye as the kid drew his knees into his chest, putting his arms around his knees. He watched as the white-haired boy's mouth opened and then closed once, then twice, and then three times. It seemed as if he wanted to say something, but stopped himself every time.

"Just spit it out, Moyashi," Kanda finally snapped, rolling his eyes.

"What?" Allen asked, blinking up at him.

"You're trying to say something," Kanda reminded him. "Just say it already."

"Oh, right," Allen said, nodding. "Um, well, I wanted to apologize." Kanda blinked and then looked down at him, his gaze piercing. He didn't say anything, but Allen still flushed a bit under the scrutiny. "For what I said the other day… in the Starbucks. I… I don't really know what I said that made you so upset… but I'm sorry."

A wave of recognition flooded over Kanda as he remembered what the other was talking about. He didn't really understand what there was to apologize over though. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him for being so rude. But he didn't do verbal apologies. If he felt bad, he would make it up to you in actions. Like the old adage said, actions spoke louder than words.

"Don't apologize," Kanda said, looking away. "Just don't bring it up again."

"You're not mad at me?" Allen asked, surprised.

"No more than I am on a regular basis," Kanda grunted.

Allen sighed. "That's good to know then," he said, relieved. When Kanda looked down at him inquisitively, he continued, "I hate it when people are mad at me, so I always try to make it up to them. But I have no idea how I would've made it up to  _you_." He smiled rather sheepishly.

"You could be quiet," Kanda suggested, snorting. Allen laughed faintly, but didn't say anything. While it didn't seem to bother the smaller male, Kanda found the ensuing silence uncomfortable. He fidgeted a little bit, crossing and then re-crossing his arms over his chest. He felt the urge to say something; it was odd. He didn't normally want to talk to people, especially about himself. But maybe it was because he knew Allen's life wasn't very good that he felt more comfortable about his own past.

"You wanted to know why I'm always so negative," he said quietly. Allen looked up at him, his eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. "My parents were from Japan. They were a very traditional family. And my father hated me. My mother tried to protect me from him, but she couldn't." He paused before continuing. "He became very ill one day, and it kept progressing to the point that he knew he was going to die. So he asked me to come in and speak with him one last time. I had thought that perhaps he was going to apologize or maybe say something, just one kind thing, to me. But instead, he cursed me, me and my family. A few days after he died, our home was destroyed in a fire, and my mother with it.

"How would you feel if as a child, you were cursed by your own father and then had everything you held dear taken away from you? I hated the world. I hated my father, I hated my mother for loving him, and I hated myself. My mother loved him very much, and yet she still ended up dead. She was the kindest person I ever knew. But what's the point in being nice and optimistic if all that it brings is pain?" He shook his head. "There is no point."

Allen was quiet for a moment, and just sat there, staring at him. "I guess you're right about that," he said finally, looking down. "But if you don't love at all… you aren't going to be happy. Isn't it better to be happy some of the time than miserable all of the time?"

Kanda froze. He knew that Allen was right; he'd heard others speak those same words to him before. But they held no meaning because most people who'd said them hadn't experienced what he had. But he had a feeling that Allen had. He had a hunch that Allen's life story was even more tragic than his own. "And what would you know of that?" he asked.

Allen opened his mouth to reply, but just then, an annoyingly cheerful cell phone went off. Kanda rolled his eyes – it figured that the brat had one of  _those_ ring tones. "Sorry," Allen murmured, flushing. He fished around in his jacket pocket for a minute before bringing out a small cell phone and holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" The sound of harsh yelling immediately broke the silence; Kanda could hear it even from where he stood, several feet away. Allen winced and held the phone away from his ear.

"I'm sorry!" he said quickly. "I didn't mean to!" There was more yelling. "Yes." The voice quieted after that, though it still sounded quite angry. "I know." Pause. "I know." Then Allen sighed. "I guess." More yelling. "Alright, alright! I'll go back home!" Another harsh, biting statement. Allen's face turned pale and an expression of incredible hurt crossed his features. "I understand," he said feebly. He hung up the phone then and put the device back in his pocket. Pushing himself up off the ground and clutching his arms around himself – for he wasn't wearing anything but a small, feeble jacket – he gave Kanda an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

Kanda watched as the younger man brushed past him, the same hurt look still in his eyes. Surprising even himself, Kanda opened his mouth to speak just as Allen reached the foot of the bridge. "Does he always yell at you?"

Allen froze and half-turned to look back at Kanda. Kanda was surprised to see tears shining in the boy's eyes, as if he were trying not to cry. Forcing himself to smile, the younger man replied, "Don't worry about it, Kanda. I'm used to it by now."

"I still don't understand why you put up with him," Kanda murmured.

"I don't have a choice," Allen said bitterly.

"Everyone has a choice," Kanda said, moving forward to stand next to the other. Allen stared up at him, still suppressing those crystalline tears. "Most people are just too cowardly to take the first step." He leaned over and reached into Allen's pocket, obviously startling the boy, and grabbed the cell phone. Allen stared at him nervously, obviously unsure of what he was going to do.

Kanda pressed a few keys rapidly. He knew this phone's layout. It was the same one that Tiedoll had. And since the old fart knew nothing about technology, he often got calls at midnight when the old man complained that nothing was working. He'd purposefully left the instruction manual sitting on Tiedoll's bedside table, but of course the man wouldn't open it.

When he was finished, he put the phone back into Allen's pocket. He wasn't sure why he'd just done that – it had just been an impulse. He normally didn't follow impulses because he wasn't a rash person. He had always been much more rational. But sometimes even his emotions got the better of him. He turned around and started walking away.

"Wait! Kanda, what did you do to my phone?" Allen called after him.

"There's no point in crying if you have someone who will listen to you," Kanda replied, not even stopping. The brat didn't say anything else, so he just continued walking on down the path to the park entrance. He turned right and started back to his apartment. His mind was, for the first time in several days, relatively at peace. If nothing else, Allen was at least distracting. He didn't normally like distractions, but Allen at least kept things interesting.

After all, he certainly wasn't ordinary.

* * *

Allen cradled the tiny phone in his hand. He instantly pressed the back button a few times, trying to find out what Kanda had done. None of the settings were different, the ring tone was the same – he'd thought it might be that since Kanda obviously hated the cheerful and bright tone – and nothing had been deleted. Frowning, he started pressing applications and scrolling through the menus until he found something odd.

He froze when he finally found it. In his address book – which really didn't consist of very many people, considering that he told people to only call his cell phone if he didn't pick up at home first – was now a new contact. He pressed a button that popped open the full page. Sure enough, Kanda's name appeared on the screen, along with two phone numbers, one for home and one for mobile.

He put the phone back into his pocket after closing all the applications and started walking the opposite direction that Kanda had gone. He couldn't help the smile that crept across his face. This night had been definitely eventful, painful, and certainly unexpected. But there was always a silver lining to every cloud. He felt like he had gained something wonderful. And why? Someone was finally willing to be there for him. No one had ever really wanted to help him before, even if they liked him. Liking was generally easier than understanding, which was where most people drew the line.

He didn't think that Kanda particularly liked him. The other man had probably just given up his phone number because he'd shared his own story and felt obligated to hear Allen's. But that was fine with Allen. Because, even if it wasn't perfectly voluntary, someone still wanted to listen.

And that made all the difference.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Kanda stared at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't believe he was doing this. How the hell had he gotten roped into this?! Oh, right… Lavi was a sick son of a bitch and would've dragged him to his stupid party even if Kanda had refused to come. It just saved much time and effort to just go to the party for an hour or so and then get the hell out of dodge. That was why he was now standing in front of his mirror, putting his hair up into its normal ponytail.

He had changed into a black button-up shirt and a pair of dark jeans, adding a few studded belts for emphasis. Lavi had said the party was "dressy casual", whatever that meant. Seriously, was it dressy or casual? Whoever had coined the term just needed to make up their mind already. So he had just picked what he felt was worthy of dressy fucking casual. And he honestly didn't care if Lavi didn't like what he was wearing – the idiot should be grateful enough that he was even deigning to come to the party. Seriously, that brat of a Moyashi had no idea how lucky he was that he had to work tonight.

The last finishing touches done, he walked into the kitchen, grabbing his black coat, keys, and cell phone. As he grabbed the last item, he paused to look at it briefly. He hadn't really thought about why he'd given the kid his phone number; it wasn't like he sincerely wanted to get the brat's life story. There had just been something… some impulse that had made him want to give the kid his phone number. He couldn't explain it. Still, hadn't Allen had called him yet, so he hadn't contemplated it too much.

Sticking the device in his pocket, he crossed the remaining distance to the door of his apartment and left. He took the elevator down to the parking garage, a frown on his face as he attempted to devise the easiest way to get out of the party without Lavi noticing. Lavi was a very social creature. At parties, he tended to hang out in the areas where the most people gathered – like the dance floor and the tables of food. Those were Kanda's main areas to avoid. Corners were unfortunately out of the question as well because that was the first place anybody would look to find him. Therefore, he would have to – dare he think it –  _mingle._ He would have to associate with the rest of the people at the party.

As he climbed fluidly into his car, shut the door and began to drive off to Lavi's apartment, he tried to think of the best way to handle things. There was no feasible way that he could avoid talking to anyone. It was just impossible. But there had to be a way that he could avoid most people. All he had to do was figure it out.

When he pulled up to the parking lot beside Lavi's apartment building, he still hadn't come to a conclusion. Getting out of his car, he locked the door and put his keys in his pocket before heading up the steps to the lobby. Judging from the flashing lights coming from one of the rooms upstairs, he thought he had a pretty good idea of where the party was. He still couldn't believe he was actually doing this. It went against all common sense.

After a few moments of elevators and hallways, he found himself standing before a simple, white door with a brass number 13 on it. He could hear the music coming from inside the room; it was obnoxious. There was just no other way to put it. He tried the handle; it was unlocked, to his relief. He stepped inside and immediately had to force himself to go further into the room. It was  _that_  bad.

There were gaudy, sparkling garlands – of all colors; there was no recognizable color scheme – hanging from every free surface. Several trees, of varying sizes – and once again, colors – were placed in random corners. Fake snow littered the tables where the food was. Overly loud, hip-hopped-tricked-out versions of the butchered Christmas classics were playing from a stereo somewhere. There were about fifty people there right now, but considering the size of Lavi's apartment, that made it very crowded. The room smelled horrible – it was a mixture of the fake holiday "spice" potpourri that they sold in bulk at stores and the sweat of dancing humans. It almost made him want to gag.

He quickly moved over to the side, trying to avoid being seen. "Kanda!" He cursed; obviously his plan was short-lived. He turned around to see Lenalee Lee standing there, dressed in a short black dress that showed off her legs and knee-high, skin-tight black leather boots. She stepped closer to him, an endearing smile on her face. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"It wasn't like I had a choice," he muttered. "Your idiot boyfriend would've just forced me to come anyways, and if I didn't, he'll talk my ears off about it for days."

"Probably," she allowed. "Does Lavi know you're here?"

"I hope not."

"He doesn't?" she asked, surprised. "But you're best friends… or at least, you're  _his_ best friend. I'm not sure the feeling's mutual." She snickered a bit. "Maybe I should tell him you're here. He'll be so glad to see you!"

His eyes flashed as he glared at her. "Don't even think about it," he warned. "If you do, I will personally make this night miserable for you."

She giggled then, as if he'd just made a very funny joke. "No, you won't," she said, calling his bluff. "You know my brother. I don't think you're willing to pay the consequences of doing that." Darn. He hated it when other people were right. That made him wrong.

"I will still make your life very unpleasant," he threatened.

"Oh, really?" she asked, appearing interested now. Dammit, she was toying with him! What an evil girl Lavi had chosen this time. Normally he chose less-than-intelligent but quite attractive girls that he could run circles around. Why had he gone and changed preferences now? "And what do you plan on doing?"

He glared at her intensely. "I'll find... something."

"Oh, how ominous," she snorted, smirking at him. "But come on!" She hooked an arm around his elbow and began to drag him away. "I'm sure Lavi wants to see you!"

"I'm sure he does," Kanda muttered under his breath. He let himself be dragged across the room. It wasn't as if he could think up any way to get himself out of it. Besides, now Lavi would know that he had indeed come to this stupid party and wouldn't bug him about it. The only bad thing was… well, he had to go talk to Lavi face-to-face. And that was always a painful experience.

Lenalee led him into the kitchen. There weren't very many people here at all – just a few refilling their drinks or talking to Lavi, who was standing by a punch bowl pouring a bottle of rum into the noxiously pink punch. He looked up when Lenalee stopped right before him. "Lenalee!" he said, immediately stashing the bottle of alcohol under the table. Kanda wondered who the idiot red-head thought he was kidding – everyone had to have seen that stunt. "Whatcha doing?" His gaze moved from his girlfriend to Kanda. "Yuu-chan!" he said happily, springing forward.

Kanda stepped out of the way at the last moment, letting the idiot fall forwards into a table. "Don't do that," he grunted irritably. "You're going to hurt someone."

"Hurt someone?" Lavi asked, clutching his side painfully. "What about me? What happens if I hurt myself?"

Kanda looked at him flatly. "No one cares if you get hurt," he said.

"Oh, that's so mean!" Lavi pouted. He looked to Lenalee. "Lenalee, do you care if I get hurt?"

She smiled and went over to wrap an arm around his waist. "Of course I care if you get hurt!" she said. "But Kanda's right, you know; you shouldn't just jump at people. A hello would be just fine."

"More than fine," Kanda piped up.

"Oh, be quiet, you," Lenalee snapped. She pulled Lavi up and straightened out his slightly mussed shirt before running her fingers through his messy hair. "Honestly, Lavi, you look like a mess. Have you never heard of a comb?" She sighed and smiled at him fondly.

"Hey," Lavi protested, grabbing her arms so that her hands were out of his hair. "As good as that feels – it took me hours to get my hair to look like this."

Kanda rolled his eyes. More mushy stuff. He didn't really care that the two idiots were together; they deserved each other, in his opinion. Lavi needed a mom and Lenalee needed someone to carry her shopping bags. Besides, if they were together, that was less time that the redhead spent trying to get him to do things. And in Kanda's opinion, anything that made Lavi forget about him was a very, very good thing. At the same time, however, he didn't necessarily want to see them being all cuddly together.

"Hey, Kanda."

Kanda looked up, drawing himself out of his thoughts, when he heard Lenalee say his name. Lavi now had his arm around the girl's shoulders, and she had her arm around his waist. She was staring at him speculatively. "What?" he asked.

"I was meaning to ask you this earlier, but I forgot," she said. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Lavi snorted; Kanda glared at him. "Yuu-chan doesn't have girlfriends," the redhead continued nonchalantly, ignoring Kanda's gaze. "He's too mean! He scares all the girls away! To be honest, I've wondered if he was gay! I mean, look at all that hair! And he's always got such a bitchy attitude. Doesn't he seem like a girl?"

"If you want to remain in one piece for the remainder of the night, I would suggest you be quiet," Lenalee advised, observing the murderous look on Kanda's face. "And besides, I wanted  _him_  to answer the question, not you. So, Kanda?"

"No, I don't have a girlfriend," he said through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at the red-head, who had just now noticed the malevolent aura pouring off his so-called "best friend". "And I am  _not_  gay. Long hair does not equal homosexuality!"

"Of course, Yuu-chan," Lavi said quickly. "I mean, of course you're not gay! You're practically just oozing manliness! And you don't have to have a girlfriend to not be gay! Of course not! You're as not gay as playing tiddlywinks with manhole covers!"

"Oh, be quiet, Lavi," Lenalee said, smiling in amusement. She laughed. "Honestly, where do you come up with all of this stuff?"

"What can I say? It just came," the redhead said, puffing his chest out a bit.

"That's what she said," Lenalee joked.

Lavi looked at her, as if astonished that she could possibly say something that implied something perverted. "Where have you been all my life?" he demanded, throwing his hands out to the side.

She flushed a bit. "About two miles to the south," she replied.

Kanda rolled his eyes. Yeah. These two idiots totally deserved each other.

* * *

"Hey, Alanna, can you get the phone for me?"

Allen looked up to see the blonde hostess attempting to control the very crowded waiting room. She was handing out menus and pointing out the free tables to the waitresses as fast as she could. But hey, this was a Friday night and it was getting close to Christmas. This was one of the busiest times of the year. All the men were going out with their buddies to buy themselves – err, their  _wives,_ presents. And of course every woman was going to look for a gift in the hardware department at Sears.

"Sure!" he said, smiling at the waitress and stepping around her to pick up the phone. "Hello, how can I help you?" he asked sweetly. He put his hand over his other ear so that he could hear better.

"Allen!"

"… Lavi? Is that you?" Allen asked.

"Chyeah, it's me!" Lavi said emphatically. "What's up with you?"

"Um, I'm working," Allen replied slowly. "Did you need something? We're really busy at the moment."

"Nope! I just wanted to say hi!"

"… Hi," Allen said.

"And Lenalee says hi too! Here, say hello, Lenalee!" There was a crackling noise, as if the phone was being passed around.

"Hi, Allen!"

"Hello, Lenalee," Allen said, unable to help the smile that drifted across his face. Sometimes he wondered how he'd managed to get such cracked-up friends. But he loved them. He didn't even want to think about where he'd be without them.

"I feel really bad for leaving you alone to work tonight!" Lenalee gushed. "I wish you didn't have to work at all!"

"Well, you know," Allen said, shrugging a bit. "I have to pay the bills."

"But you're the manager! Doesn't that count for something?"

"The manager has to work an equal amount as everyone else," Allen informed her dutifully. "Even more so, since people assume we get off easy. If anything, I have to work more than everyone else."

"I know," she said. He could see her pouting a little bit. "But it's still not fair. You work so hard! You're going to give yourself an ulcer!"

"Aren't those stress-related?" Allen asked, frowning. "I'm not stressed out… "

He heard a laugh from somewhere beside the phone and assumed Lavi must've put him on speaker phone. Great. Just what he needed – lots of strangers to listen in on his private conversations. "Allen, you're more stressed out than a teenage girl going on her first date who woke up with a huge zit on her chin only to find out she'd just started her period!"

"Oh, geez, Lavi, really?" Allen said, wincing. Did he mention that his friends had no qualms about being forward? Nope, they were all blunt as hammers. No beating around the bush for them!

There was a giggle on the other end. "He means well, Allen," Lenalee said.

"I know, but still," Allen said. He sighed. "Was there anything else? I really have to get back to work now."

"Oh, yeah!" Lavi piped up. "Kanda says hi!"

"No, I don't," a vicious voice grunted.

"Kanda?" Allen repeated, surprised. "Kanda came to your party?"

"Yup!"

"And you didn't blackmail him?" Allen asked suspiciously. He wouldn't have put it past the red-head.

"Allen!" Lavi exclaimed, sounding quite offended. "I would never blackmail someone! I'm practically a saint!"

"Che, right," Kanda scoffed. "And Lenalee is secretly a dominatrix, and I'm the pope." Lavi made another offended noise, but it seemed as though Kanda had taken control of the situation. "Listen, Moyashi, yes, I'm at this party. Deal with it. Lavi called to cheer you up because you aren't here. Consider yourself lucky you aren't here. Now, good-bye."

Allen pulled the phone away from his ear, smiling at Kanda's brusque handling of the situation. He hung the phone back up on the wall. He was secretly pleased that Lavi had wanted to… well, he supposed the redhead had wanted him to know that they wished he could've been there? Yeah, he would go with that.

"Who was that?" the hostess asked when she got a free moment.

"Just a friend," Allen said, smiling.

* * *

"Alright, so who's up for a round of truth or dare?!"

Kanda rolled his eyes as the rest of the small group cheered enthusiastically. It was getting close to one in the morning. He had attempted to get away several times now, but every time he would get close, Lenalee would find him and drag him back. He was really beginning to dislike her. It was too bad that he couldn't do anything to her because she was A) a girl and B) Komui Lee's sister. And now most of the people had gone home, so he really didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to leave yet.

"Oh, buck up, Kanda, you look like your cat just died," Daisya said, laughing. "It's just a game."

"I hate cats," Kanda informed him sharply.

"No shit," his adoptive brother said, rolling his eyes. Kanda stared in disgust at the idiot. Sure enough, not even a week since Kanda had seen him last and the clown's hair had been dyed a noxious shade of purple. It matched the stupid little marks under his eyes. Kanda wasn't sure if those were tattoos or make-up. They'd appeared one day on the bastard's face and had never been removed. He really didn't care. "But come on, it's just a game."

"I'm not playing truth or dare," Kanda said firmly.

"But Yuu-chan!" Lavi protested. "You have to! It's going to be so much fun!"

Kanda's eyes flashed. "I have to?" he repeated icily. "I wasn't aware that I  _had_  to do anything."

"You have to pay taxes," Marie pointed out practically.

"Shut up," Kanda snapped.

"Oh, don't be such a tight-ass, " Daisya said, sniggering. "Honestly, do you always have a stick up your ass? Oh, that's right. You do."

Quicker than lightning, Kanda picked up the glass sitting on the table beside him and chucked it at his adoptive brother's head. "Oi!" Daisya ducked and the glass flew over him to smash into the wall behind him. He looked up at Kanda, his eyes wide. "What the hell was that for?"

"Shut up, or I'll do it again," Kanda said, looking away, bored. "And I won't miss next time."

"Jesus Christ," Daisya muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"Can we just get on with the game now?" Lenalee asked.

"Yeah!" Lavi said, pumping his fist into the air. "Let's get started! Okay, who wants to go first?" No one volunteered. He shrugged. "Okay, then, I'll start! Hmmmm… " He looked around for his first victim. "Okay then, Marie, truth or dare?"

"… truth I suppose," Marie responded, turning towards Lavi's general direction.

"Where's the wildest place you've ever had sex?" Kanda rolled his eyes while Daisya burst out laughing. Marie seemed unfazed by the question, and actually seemed to be considering his answer. Now that was interesting to Kanda. He wasn't aware that his other brother had ever had a girlfriend. When had he had time to have sex? He wasn't the type to just go pick up a random girl for a one-night stand.

"I would have to say in the glass elevator in the Human Resources Building downtown," Marie finally replied nonchalantly.

"Holy flying fuck, are you kidding me?" Daisya asked, his eyes about ready to pop out of their sockets. Marie nodded solemnly. "Shit, man… that's fucking awesome!" He held out his fist. "Pound it." Marie complied easily. Kanda found the whole thing mildly disturbing. Wasn't Marie supposed to be the responsible one here?

"Wow… that's just… wow," Lavi said, clearly impressed. "Okay then, Marie, it's your turn now!"

"Alright," the tall man said. He looked around, searching for the next victim. "Lenalee then, truth or dare?"

"Dare," she said, smiling sweetly.

He thought about it for a moment, trying to think up something good for her to do. "I have it," he finally said, smiling deviously. "Call Komui on the phone and pretend that you've eloped with Lavi to the Bahamas to get married."

Lenalee flushed a bit, but pulled the landline phone off the table and put it in her lap. "I'll put it on speaker, so everyone be quiet," she said. She took a deep breath before picking up the receiver and dialing the number. She then pressed the button for speaker phone. The loud dial tone filled the air. A few seconds later, and Komui responded.

"Hello?"

"Brother!" Lenalee said happily. "Hi, it's me!"

"Lenalee?" Komui asked, sounding surprised. "What are you doing up so late? It's one in the morning!"

"I know, I know," Lenalee said. "But I… well I had something I wanted to tell you."

"… alright, what is it?"

"I hadn't planned on telling you, but now that I've actually done it, I don't think I can keep it a secret for much longer."

"… Lenalee, what's going on?" Komui was starting to sound panicked now. Daisya was fighting to keep his laughing quiet, while Lavi was smiling nervously – after all, it was his head on the line if Komui found them before they could explain that it was just a joke. Even Marie was smiling. Kanda thought it was all ridiculous.

"Brother… I'm in the Bahamas," Lenalee said, biting her lower lip.

"The Bahamas?!" Komui exclaimed. "What are you doing there? You know, if you'd wanted to take a vacation, you could have just told me! I could've taken off work!"

"Well, to tell you the truth, Brother… I'm not here because I wanted a vacation," Lenalee explained. A smile was creeping onto her face. It appeared to Kanda as if she were enjoying it. "Actually… Lavi and I are here together. We… we're married now!"

There was silence for about ten seconds. And then…

"WHAT?!" Komui screeched. "You're MARRIED?! To LAVI?! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?! AND WHY DIDN'T I KNOW ABOUT THIS?! LENALEE?! YOU'RE BEING SO MEAN TO ME!"

"Sorry, Brother!" Lenalee quickly hung up the phone without further explanation to keep herself from bursting out laughing and ruining the joke. As it was, as soon as the phone hit the carrier, she fell over into Lavi, laughing so hard it half-sounded like she was choking. It took her almost five whole minutes to get herself under control again. "Oh, he's going to kill me!"

"You?!" Lavi asked incredulously. "He's going to kill  _me!_ "

"Good riddance," Kanda muttered.

"Hey, I heard that, Yuu-chan!" Lavi pouted. He pointed a finger at Kanda. "You haven't done anything yet! Lenalee, make him do something! It's your turn next!"

"Do you really think he'll participate?" Lenalee asked speculatively, looking over at Kanda.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Kanda asked. "Because you're pretty dumb if you can't figure that one out on your own."

"Kanda, truth or dare?" Lenalee ventured.

"I'm not playing," Kanda said slowly, enunciating each word with icy precision. "How much clearer can I make it for you?"

"You are too going to play!" Lavi exclaimed.

"Or what?"

"Or… or we'll never leave you alone!" Lavi said, grinning.

Kanda weighed his options. On one hand, he really didn't want to play this game. It was stupid, childish, and they would probably either ask him something he wouldn't want to divulge or make him do something incredibly stupid. But if he didn't play, Lavi was threatening to never shut up. That would be incredibly inconvenient. But maybe he could use this to his own advantage… "Dare."

Lenalee looked surprised to see that he'd actually agreed, but shrugged it off and continued. "Okay then…" she paused, putting a finger to her lips as she thought of something. "I want you to go and change the answers on the final exams at the university so that they're all the same letter on the multiple choice!"

The room was silent for a moment. Then Lavi and Daisya burst out laughing. "I can't wait until you get caught!" Daisya crowed. Kanda glared at him, but stood up anyways and walked out. But just as he was about the close the door behind him, Lenalee spoke up.

"Oh, and Kanda!" she said cheerily. "I'll know if you don't do it because next week is exam week!" He rolled his eyes. "And don't forget to come back, or we'll have to come get you!" With that, he slammed the door shut and started to walk down the hall.

Honestly, he was dealing with such simpletons. Did they really think this was a big deal to him? He stuck his hands in his pockets as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. It was so easy. After another few moments, he stepped out into the lobby and walked towards the front door. It was now snowing outside and bitterly cold, but he didn't care. He was finally out of that hellhole.

After reaching his car, he sat down and slammed the door shut, locking it behind him. He immediately turned on the heat and decided to sit there for a moment until he could feel his hands again. Now, what was he to do? While the dare would present no problem to him whatsoever, he was fully aware of the fact that Lavi and Lenalee would easily try to retrieve him for more of their stupid truth or dare game. He had to go somewhere that they wouldn't think he'd go.

Now that the car was decently warm, he started it up and sped back to his apartment. He left the car on the first floor of the garage and then got out. He wasn't going to drive to the place he'd decided to go. He smirked. They would  _never_ suspect this place. Wasn't he brilliant?

* * *

Allen sighed as he finally unlocked the door to his small flat. He was so exhausted. It was almost two in the morning. He'd been kept late at the restaurant because there had been an emergency shortage of hot wings. He'd had to make several purchases online and then have them overnight-shipped in order to be there by tomorrow. He hadn't planned on running out of hot wings, but hey, the people here liked their chicken.

It was freezing in his living room. He must've left a window open on accident. Shivering, he flipped on a light switch, leaving his shoes by the door. Well, none of the windows in here were open. He moved into the kitchen, checking the phone to see if he had any messages. Then he sorted through the mail he'd picked up on his way in. Let's see… bills… bills… another bill… some random advertisement for a new lingerie store… and another bill. He threw the mail down on the counter glumly. Well, there went tonight's paycheck. Honestly, if this kept up, maybe he  _would_  develop an ulcer or two.

He turned the lights off as he headed to the back bedroom, fully intending on going to sleep and not waking up until he had to go to work at seven. He shrugged off his jacket, exposing his arms to the cold air. Even though it was freezing, he always had to wear a t-shirt while he was sleeping. He couldn't help it. Anything more and he just got too hot. He flipped on the light and looked around until he found the pair of pajama bottoms he was looking for. He grabbed them off the floor and then turned around, heading for the bed.

The only problem was… there was already someone in it.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Allen blinked.

"KANDA?!"

"Che, be quiet, brat," Kanda said, rolling his eyes. He looked quite relaxed, leaning back against the headboard of Allen's small bed, arms and ankles crossed. He was dressed in nice clothes, Allen noted absently. Oh, that was right. He had been at Lavi's party. But that still didn't explain what the heck he was doing here! "No need to get all bent out of shape."

"Wha… what are you talking about?!" Allen demanded. "What the hell are you doing here? And how did you get into my apartment?! This is breaking and entering, you know!"

"Good grief, shut up," Kanda snapped. "You almost complain more than Lavi." He rolled his eyes again. "As for your question, you left the fucking window open. Honestly, aren't you worried about thieves?" He shook his head.

"You still didn't tell me why you're here," Allen said, moving forward to hastily snap the still open window shut. No wonder it was so cold in here. He mentally scolded himself for not shutting the window. He would leave it up sometimes when the room got stuffy, but he was always forgetting to close it.

"I have to get away from Lavi," Kanda said, shrugging. "And I had to go somewhere where he wouldn't look for me."

"So you came and broke into my apartment?" Allen asked, irritated, turning to face Kanda with his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't really appreciate that, you know."

"I really don't care as to what you do and don't appreciate," Kanda informed him. He paused just then, staring down at Allen's chest. He frowned, his dark blue eyes studying. Allen frowned, wondering what the other was staring at. He looked down at his chest. There wasn't anything on his shirt… was there? No… no stains… then what could it… He felt his breath hitch in his throat when he figured out that it wasn't his chest Kanda was staring at – it was his arm. He'd taken off his jacket and was only wearing a t-shirt underneath.

He quickly took a few steps back, moving his arm to hide it behind his back. Kanda raised an eyebrow at his antics and moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Is that why you always wear long sleeves and gloves?" he asked quietly.

Allen flushed, and nodded.

A snort was Kanda's only response. "Idiot."

Now that pissed Allen off. Who did this bastard think he was?! First, he broke into his apartment, and now he was passing off such a huge blemish as if it were an errant freckle?! " _Idiot_?" he repeated. "You don't know anything about me! Do you realize how much pain this stupid arm has caused me? And you just pass it off like it's nothing?! Who do you think you are?"

Kanda stood up then and walked over to him. Allen backed up, seeing the obvious glint of cold steel in the other's eyes. But Kanda followed him until Allen couldn't move anywhere. He stuck his hands out to either side of Allen's head and leaned down.

"Who do I think I am?" he asked, his voice cold. "I know exactly who I am. I don't pretend to be something I'm not. I don't know anything about you? Well, fuck-a-doodle-doo, punk, it's not like you've offered much up." He was openly glaring now. Allen was absently surprised that he hadn't been punched yet. "And your arm? It  _is_  nothing, as far as I'm concerned. Who cares if you've got a weird arm? Everyone has some kind of flaw."

"Flaw?" Allen asked, laughing bitterly. "I wouldn't call it a flaw."

"Bullshit," Kanda snapped. "You do think it's a flaw, or else you wouldn't try so hard to hide it." He stepped away then, looking towards the window.

Allen watched him for a moment, waiting for him to say something else. But when the dark-haired man offered nothing, he decided to speak instead. "I only hide it because everyone else seems so repulsed by it," he admitted quietly. "I… I didn't ask for it to happen. It's not even my fault."

"If the people you spend your time with are so willing to judge you based solely on your physical appearance, then what the fuck are you doing with them?" Kanda asked, turning his gaze back to Allen. "Even I know better than that."

"You?" Allen repeated, snorting. He shook his head. "You don't care what people think about you."

Kanda shrugged and went back to sit on the bed. "So what happened?" he asked.

Allen absently drew his deformed, red arm in towards his chest, as if doing so would make it seem less appalling. "It's something having to do with my metabolism," he explained quietly, moving slowly to sit at the other end of the bed, as far away from Kanda as possible.

"Che, figures," Kanda snorted. "I told you it wasn't normal for any ordinary human being to eat the way you do."

"It's not my fault," Allen persisted. "How many times do I have to say that for it to stick in your head?" He shook his head. "And I thought that I had memory problems." He sighed. "Apparently, my metabolism is way too high. It's off the charts. I have to eat that much in order to survive because my body uses the energy too quickly. For some reason, it made this happen." He moved his arm a bit. "There's nothing really  _wrong_ with it. It's just… ugly… "

"Oh, goddammit, Moyashi, don't throw a pity party," Kanda snapped grumpily. "It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal!" Allen disagreed. He glared at Kanda. "You don't know what it's like!" He shook his head. "Why am I even arguing with you? I could make more headway with a fencepost. It would sure be a whole lot more understanding."

"What is there to understand?" Kanda retorted. "Why do you care so much about what people think? People are idiots." He leaned back then, in a pose that was much too comfortable looking, considering he wasn't in his own home.

"I think you just insulted yourself, Kanda," Allen informed him, smirking a bit.

"I never said  _I_  was an idiot," Kanda shot back.

"Oh, really?" Allen asked, lifting his eyebrows. His face took on a look of surprise. "Oh, I see it now! I don't know how I didn't recognize it before! You're clearly some kind of being to whom the rules of nature just don't apply!"

"Shut up," Kanda snarled. "Don't you ever know when to quit?"

"It's my house," Allen pointed out. "I can say whatever the hell I want." Kanda glared at him, but didn't say reply. Allen stood up then, grabbing his now wrinkled pajama bottoms. "I'm going to change."

"Like I care," Kanda said, looking away. Allen rolled his eyes as he moved out of the bedroom and into the very tight bathroom. He barely had enough room to change without hitting his hips on the chipped porcelain sink or his knees on the stained toilet that was beyond all redemption. He didn't care what the labels on those Magic Erasers said – this toilet was  _not_ going to get clean. He didn't even want to think about the abuse the previous owners had to have put it through.

He took his own sweet time changing, not really wanting to go back into his bedroom to argue with Kanda. He wondered absently when the other was going to leave. If he thought he was spending the night here, he was sorely mistaken. There was only so much Allen could allow before a certain line was crossed. But after nearly five minutes of loitering around cleaning up the medicine cabinet – which really only contained a bottle of toothpaste, his toothbrush and a few bottles of Advil and Tylenol – he figured he had to go back.

To his surprise, Kanda was staring at his keyboard, frowning slightly. His eyes flicked to Allen when he reentered the room, but then moved back to the musical instrument. Allen absently put his dirty pants in a basket by the door. What was so great about a keyboard anyway? Surely Kanda had seen one before…

"You play the piano?"

Allen looked over at Kanda. The dark-haired man still wasn't looking at him, but his words hung in the air, demanding an answer. "Yes."

"Are you any good?"

Allen blinked. "Well, that's subjective, isn't it?" Kanda didn't respond. Allen moved into the room a few more steps. "Do you want me to play something?"

Kanda shrugged, tearing his gaze away. "Do whatever the hell you want."

Allen let a small smile creep onto his face. Believe it or not, he liked Kanda better this way. He was better when he acted bored and completely apathetic than when he was being an ass. He was… almost tolerable. Based on Kanda's words, he figured that the other really  _did_  want him to play something, but he definitely wasn't going to ask. Shaking his head, Allen moved over to the keyboard and sat himself down. He thought about what song he should play for a moment.

There was one song that he always loved playing, but he wasn't sure if Kanda would like it. It was, after all, considered more of a romantic song, and the day Kanda did something romantic was the day Allen shaved his eyebrows off. It just wasn't conceivable. Still… it was easy to play, yet irrevocably beautiful. And he knew it by heart.

Putting his fingers on the keys, he began to play, slowly, letting each note hang in the air a bit longer than was necessary. He preferred to take this piece a little bit slower than the piece called for. It made it that much more poignant. He could feel Kanda's eyes on him, but he didn't look up. That might make it look he was playing the song  _for_ Kanda, instead of just showing off that he could play.

The piece was only about five minutes long, but Allen felt like it lasted much longer than that. When he let the final notes drift away, he looked up at Kanda to see a surprising expression on the other's face. It wasn't… shock. No, seeing Kanda shocked was even less probable than Allen winning the lottery. The look was more like… it was more… pensive, maybe? It was definitely something he hadn't expected to see on the other's face. "What?" he asked.

Kanda tore his gaze away, looking off distractedly. "Kanda?" Allen prompted, tilting his head slightly sideways in confusion. "Is something wrong?"

"… my mother loved that song," he said quietly. Allen had to strain to hear it; it was so soft, he wasn't sure whether or not Kanda had actually spoken or if he'd just imagined it. He stood up then, moving back to sit on the bed – still a healthy distance away from Kanda.

"I thought your parents lived in Japan," Allen said quietly.

"Of course they did," Kanda snapped; the words may have been stinging, but the tone held no bite. "That doesn't mean anything. They do have pianos in Japan, you know." He rolled his eyes. "What's it called?"

"You don't know?" Allen asked, puzzled.

"If I knew, why the hell would I be asking?" Kanda said heatedly. "No, I don't know what it's called. She never told me its name… "

"It's Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata," Allen said softly. Kanda nodded tersely, and then fell silent. "Did she play the piano?" Allen asked softly, after a few moments of silence passed.

Kanda didn't answer for a few moments. He stared absently at the floor, as if he were thinking of something very far back in his past. It was then that Allen realized he didn't even know how old Kanda was. He couldn't be much older than himself, though, if he was still in college. And yet he seemed much older than that.

"Yes," the dark-haired man finally responded. "And that song was her favorite."

The silence that followed felt oppressive to Allen. He didn't like it. It was too sad… too reminiscent of the past. He hated the past. He could only look forward. That was all he could do, all he had been able to do for so long. He couldn't, wouldn't look back now. "Kanda, how old are you?"

Kanda looked over at him, a confused look on his face. "What?"

"You heard me," Allen said, sighing, "or is your hearing so bad that I need to go buy you a hearing aid?"

"Like you could afford it," Kanda snorted. Allen scowled at him, but couldn't say anything else since he knew it was true. "Twenty-two. Why?"

Allen shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "It's just… well, we've spoken a bit before, but I never knew how old you were."

"Why would you want to know how old I am?" Kanda asked. "That's creepy, Moyashi. What are you, a stalker?"

"Wha-? No!" Allen said vehemently. "Who would stalk you?"

"You'd be surprised," Kanda snorted.

"Seriously, you have the personality of a wet mop," Allen said, scrunching his nose in distaste. "And you're always scowling. You would look so much better if you weren't always frowning. Didn't anyone ever tell you that frowning gives you wrinkles?"

Kanda looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "That wasn't any less creepy, Moyashi," he said.

"What?" Allen asked, looking over at him. "Oh, for Pete's sake, I didn't mean it like that!" He shuddered. "I don't like you that way, Kanda. Good heavens."

"So you aren't gay then." Kanda didn't inflect it like it was a question.

"Actually, I don't know," Allen said slowly.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know?" Kanda asked.

"Well… " Allen flushed a bit, slightly embarrassed that he was talking about romance with Kanda, of all people. It just… it was just weird. "I've never really liked anyone that way. I've just never felt romantically attracted to anyone, so I wouldn't know."

"You've never had sex?" Kanda asked flatly.

"… no," Allen admitted. He looked up to see Kanda's absolutely floored expression. Well, miracles do happen – Kanda  _could_ show an emotion. The only thing missing from the expression was the mouth hanging open. But he supposed that was asking too much – as it was, the really wide eyes were kind of freaking him out. Bug eyes did not suit Kanda's angular face. "What?" he asked defensively. "It's not like you have either."

Kanda snorted. "And how the hell would you know that?"

"Seriously, who would ever want to have sex with you?" Allen asked. "It'd be like having sex with a robot."

"Says the bottle of extra virgin olive oil," Kanda said, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, this entire conversation is just getting awkward," Allen said.

"You started it," Kanda pointed out.

"Well, now I'm ending it."

* * *

Lenalee slowly picked up the Hershey kiss she was playing with and inspected it. It had a bright red wrapper – for Christmas, of course – and was still in mint condition. There were no flaws on it whatsoever. She held it up to eye level, stared at it for another moment or so, and then let it drop down into her lap with a sigh. Man, she was bored.

It had been at least an hour or so since Kanda had left. Somehow, she didn't think he was coming back. For one thing, Lavi basically lived five minutes away from the university, and the main office complex was the closest building. The entire dare shouldn't have taken more than thirty minutes, considering Kanda was incredibly mechanical and efficient about everything that he did. Or at least, that was what Lavi had told her.

She looked up. Daisya had fallen asleep in his chair, his mouth hanging open stupidly. Marie wasn't far behind him, staring blearily out a window. They had continued the game of truth or dare for a few more rounds after Kanda had left, but their tiredness had caught up with them. She was barely able to keep her eyes open, and Lavi was leaning against her shoulder, half-asleep.

"You know, I don't suppose Kanda is coming back," she said softly.

Marie looked up and smiled. "I would think not," he replied.

Lavi stirred against her side. "Mmmm, Lenalee?" he murmured. "Is Yuu-chan back yet?"

"Lavi," Lenalee said, "I really don't think Kanda's coming back."

"Oh… how sad," Lavi yawned. He didn't say anything else.

Lenalee rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head. "I wonder where he went," she said thoughtfully.

"Definitely not back to his apartment," Marie said, not even looking away from the window. She looked back over to him. "He probably thinks that you'll come after him. Naturally, he's gone to the spot you'd least suspect that he'd go to."

"Really," she said. "So where do you think we'll find him?"

Marie snorted. "With Kanda?" He shook his head. "You're not going to find him anytime soon."

She frowned. "Why not?" she asked. "From what I've heard, he's not terribly bright." Well, that might have been exaggerating things a bit. According to Lavi, he had decent grades. More than decent, towards the upper end of the scale. But judging from what she'd observed, Kanda didn't seem to have a whole lot of out-of-the-box, creative thinking.

"Maybe he's not," Marie said, shrugging. "But you know, he's spent an awful lot of time avoiding people like Lavi."

"How long have they known each other?"

"Too long, in Kanda's opinion," Marie responded.

"And Kanda's always running away," Lenalee said, smiling faintly.

"Wouldn't you, if you were Kanda?" Marie asked, looking up at her with a grin.

She grinned back. "Probably."

* * *

Allen threw his head back on the bed. "When are you going to leave?" he demanded, throwing his hands over his face. It had been almost an hour since he'd come home to find Kanda on his bed, and the other still hadn't left yet. "I have to get some sleep."

"I'm not keeping you from sleeping," Kanda said stubbornly.

"You're lying on my bed!"

Kanda looked up at him, scowling. "Well, you don't have anything else to sit on," he snapped.

"That's not my fault," Allen reminded him. Geez, what was up with this guy? Did he have no tact? He never avoided a subject, despite the fact that most people knew what lines not to cross. "But I have to get some sleep or I won't be able to function when I have to work tonight."

Kanda was quiet for a moment. Allen was so exhausted, he almost drifted off to sleep. Of course, he was rather rudely awakened when Kanda kicked his leg – a bit more viciously than was probably necessary. He shot up into a seated position. "Hey!" he said, glaring at the other. "What was that for?"

"Do you have a computer?" Kanda asked flatly, ignoring his question.

"What?" Allen asked, too tired to make any sense of the question.

"Do you fucking have a computer?" Kanda asked crossly.

"Yeah, I have a laptop," Allen said without thinking. "It's a bit outdated, but it-"

"Is it connected to the internet?" Kanda interrupted.

"Of course," Allen answered.

"Where is it?" Kanda asked, getting up off the bed.

Now that caught Allen's attention. "What?" he asked. "Why?"

"You want me off your bed so you can get your beauty sleep?" Kanda demanded. "Then let me use your freaking computer."

"What are you going to do?"

"Hack into the university's computer and change the answers to the final exams," Kanda replied nonchalantly. Allen blinked. Kanda had just said that so deadpan… did he have no brain capacity?!

"What?!" Allen asked.

"It was a dare," Kanda said, rolling his eyes. "If I don't do it, Lavi and Lenalee will give me shit for the rest of my life. It'll only take me a half an hour, then I'll leave."

"Why do you have to use my computer?" Allen asked sullenly. "Just go home."

"Are you kidding me?" Kanda scoffed. "They'll probably be waiting for me at home. I said that I would leave, not that I would go home."

"Fine," Allen said, tired of arguing. He squinted up at Kanda. "Are you sure you can even do this?"

"I'm pretty damn sure," Kanda sneered.

"But what if you get caught?" Allen asked. "Won't they trace it back to my computer?"

Kanda rolled his eyes. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to get caught?" he asked. He bent down a bit. "Look, brat, I've done this hundreds of times. I'm not getting caught."

Allen made a frustrated noise. At this point, he was so ready to go to sleep that he didn't even care what Kanda did. He was tired of arguing, tired of talking, and even tired of just keeping his eyes open. "Fine," he said resignedly. "Do what you want. I don't care. It's not like you'd listen to me even if I said no." Without another word, he rolled under his rather thin blankets and onto his side, facing the wall. "Just turn off the lights on your way into the kitchen. It's on the counter."

After about five minutes had passed, Kanda was still standing there and Allen was thoroughly frustrated. He rolled over, glaring up at Kanda, who was just staring at him speculatively, one eyebrow cocked. "What are you still doing here?" he demanded. "You wanted to use my computer. Go do it!"

"You know… when you play the piano… it's tolerable," Kanda said quietly. Allen couldn't even think of a response to that one. It was just so… random. But he didn't have time to think of anything else, because Kanda chose that moment to turn around and walk gracefully out of the room, flipping the light off behind him.

Allen stared at the doorframe for a few moments, not sure what to make of what had just happened. He could hear Kanda typing away on the keyboard in the other room. Slowly, he lay back down, staring at the ceiling for a few more moments before finally closing his eyes. He was too tired to think straight right now. He'd figure things out in the morning.

* * *

Kanda quietly closed the laptop after it had shut down. It had taken a bit longer than he had expected. There were quite a few different exams for the university, it had turned out. But he was confident that he wouldn't get caught. He suspected that Lenalee had thought he'd just go and change the answers on the professors' answer grids. But no, he was so much smoother than that – he'd hacked into the network and changed the personal files. So much harder to track; after all, they'd probably all just assume that the professors were going a bit batty. Kanda did.

He looked over at the clock on Allen's rather old stove. It was close to three in the morning. He figured that by now, Lenalee and Lavi were probably fast asleep and had forgotten about him. Besides, he'd done their stupid dare. They couldn't complain about anything. Standing up, he moved on impulse to see if Allen was asleep. He stopped at the doorframe, however; he didn't go all the way into the bedroom.

The light from the kitchen shone into the room. Allen was fast asleep. Kanda snorted when he realized that the brat slept like a little kid, all sprawled out on the mattress. One arm was thrown above his head and the legs were all askew. He pitied whoever happened to be the idiot's first bed partner. They would have to deal with Allen practically sleeping on top of them.

Heading back into the kitchen, he impulsively searched around for a scrap of paper and a pen. They weren't too hard to find. He scrawled a small note on the paper and then put it on the fridge with a lone magnet. After that, he threw the pen back on the table and started to leave. He was starting to get tired, not to mention this was really going to throw off his morning training session.

As he was walking home, he wondered to himself why he was going so out of his way for the kid. This was the second time now that he'd tried to help the stupid little bean. He couldn't even say why. He still didn't particularly like the brat, and it wasn't that he felt sorry for him. No, it was far from that. He didn't really know how to express how he felt about Allen Walker. And for now, he didn't really care to find out.

* * *

Allen woke up with a start about five that afternoon. The sun was shining in from the window; it wasn't the harsh yellow of noon or the pale color that it was in the morning. Instead, it was that soft strange shade of orange that was much easier on the eyes. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes absently with a hand. He yawned once and then forced himself to get up. Ugh, he did not want to go to work today. He was still completely exhausted.

Walking into the kitchen, he immediately moved over to the fridge, hoping to find something edible for dinner. He was starving. Just as he was about to open the door, his eyes settled on something that he knew shouldn't have been there. He frowned when he saw the slanted, angular handwriting on the small piece of paper. Taking it down, he read it once.

_Oy, Moyashi,_

_I'm not a dumbass like you. I know what I'm doing. So don't worry about getting caught. And about your arm. I know a guy who helps poor people with procedures they need done. I left you his address. Guy's name is Bak Chan. He and his team are freaking lunatics, but hey, you'll fit right in, won't you? Do me a favor – go see him so you can stop bitching about that arm._

There was no name, but Allen hardly needed one to tell that it was from Kanda. He was vaguely surprised to realize that the man's writing patterns imitated his speech, but after thinking about it for a while, it did kind of fit. Underneath the small paragraph of speech was an address. He found himself snorting, but a small smile spread across his face shortly after. It was just so funny to him – Kanda pretended not to care at all, and yet this was the second nice thing the man had done for him in a short period of time.

He really should have been offended by Kanda's words, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to anger. He shook his head, setting the paper down on the counter. He didn't have time to go visit that clinic today, but he might get around to it tomorrow. As he set about fixing himself something to eat – and it would have to be very small for him, considering the amount of supplies he had in stock – he wondered why Kanda was being so nice to him.

Well, not really nice. He still treated Allen like a piece of a meat. He was insufferable, not to mention a giant prick. He constantly scowled and glared, and had already given Allen several bruises. And yet… he listened. He didn't judge. Allen had a theory working. Kanda was like a big, Vidalia onion. He had tons of different layers, and most people only saw the scratchy, outer covering. On top of that, his outside character really stunk and turned off a lot of people. But if you went deep enough, you would find a half-decent human being.

Or at least, that was his theory.


	9. Chapter 9

"When do we get to blow something up?"

Tyki rolled his eyes at his niece. She was staring at him expectantly, absently licking a sickeningly pink lollipop. "Road, we don't always blow things up," he said with a sigh. "That's not exactly subtle."

"Who cares about subtle?" she asked, giggling at him like he'd just made a joke. "I wanna see something go BOOM!"

"If you want to see something go boom, why don't you just go get the Earl to buy you some fireworks?" Tyki asked tiredly.

"Fireworks are overrated," she said matter-of-factly. "Plus they get soot everywhere, and the smell afterwards is disgusting."

He blinked at her for a moment. "And the smell after blowing up a building is perfectly floral?" he asked sarcastically.

"Nah, it's more acrid," she said, waving a hand. "But it's much, much better." It was at that moment that she skipped back across the room, picking a book up off a shelf. He watched as she sat down in a chair, flipping the book open. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed a cigarette lighter. She ripped a page out of the book, and then held it up to the lighter, setting it ablaze. She cackled with glee as the paper slowly disintegrated, and let go just as the flames were about to reach her hand, letting the ashes fall on the table below.

He shook his head. Why did he have to be related to a bunch of nutjobs? It must have been some product of inbreeding somewhere. But at least they didn't have blue skin or seven toes. He rather liked the way he looked, thank you very much.

His amber eyes flicked over to the door as it opened. A stunningly beautiful woman walked into the room, putting a hand on her hip. "Master wants to see you, Tyki," she said quietly. Putting a smile on his face, he stood up, walking over to her and giving a slight bow.

"What a pleasure to see you, Lulubell," he said charmingly. "Looking as beautiful as ever, I see."

She raised an eyebrow at him coolly. "Do you always think with your dick?" she asked skeptically. "Honestly, you're such a pervert." Without another word, she twirled around elegantly and walked back down the hall, her high heels clicking on the tile.

Tyki scowled at Road, who was now laughing at him. "Be quiet, Road," he snapped at her, embarrassed that she'd been there to hear that.

"Why?" the girl asked between giggles. "It's true!" She went back to her paper-burning then, though she still had a Cheshire-cat-like grin on her face. Tyki rolled his eyes and left the room, turning right down a poorly lit hallway. He kept walking until he got to a shiny wooden door with the number 13 as its only marker. He knocked a few times before opening it and stepping inside cautiously. He needn't have worried though – the person behind the large wooden desk had their back turned to him anyways.

"My Lord Earl, you wanted to see me?" Tyki asked, shutting the door and moving into the room.

"Ah, Tyki, pet, I didn't think you'd come so quickly!" the Earl said in his strange, almost lilting voice. "You normally take your own sweet time when doing things."

Though the tone wasn't really accusatory, Tyki flushed anyways. The Earl had a way of being insulting without really ever saying anything nasty. He'd perfected passive aggression to an art form, really. "Well, it was either come here or fall victim to Road's pyromania," he said quietly, sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk. The Earl spun around to face him, his grin widening.

"Isn't she darling?"

"Just precious," Tyki said flatly.

"Oh, don't be so jealous, Tyki!" the Earl said, his voice rising as his words went on. "You know you'll always be my favorite!"

"You say that to all of us," Tyki pointed out.

"That is what is known as immaterial," the Earl said, not missing a beat. "So, have you readied the facilities?"

"Yes, all the warehouses are standing by and awaiting shipment," Tyki said. "The security measures have all been implemented and the government doesn't suspect a thing."

"Good, good," the Earl said, nodding. "But what about Cross?" His face darkened a bit. "Have you heard any news of him?"

"He's in the area," Tyki said, "but Jasdero and David haven't found anything specific yet." Not that that was a big surprise – the two clowns were almost as useless as Skin Boric, and that was saying something. Talk about a guy who didn't use his brain.

"Well, I will speak to them about it," the Earl said. Tyki was glad that he wasn't on the receiving end of the Earl's anger for once; the man may not have looked intimidating now, but when he was riled up, not even Road would cross him. "But there's one thing I want you to do, Tyki."

"What is it?"

"Call in operation 562A-X."

Tyki blinked. " _Now?_ " he asked, raising an eyebrow. That was a big-ass move! "Are you sure… ?"

"Of course I'm sure," the Earl said, his eyes flashing behind his tinted glasses. "If I wasn't sure, would I have told you to do that?"

"Well, no, probably not," Tyki said.

"Good. And do not mention what we've discussed to anyone else. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly."

* * *

Allen sighed and slumped with relief into the chair in the breakroom. He was so exhausted. It was only a few days now until Christmas and the holiday rush at the restaurants were getting even worse. They had almost run out of gift cards to give to people who were too lazy or too bothered to go out and actually purchase something more personal. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, either. He could tell that there were dark circles under his eyes, and he had lost more than a pound or two due to not having enough time to go grocery shopping.

Lenalee slumped down into the chair across from him, laying her head on the table. "It's so busy tonight," she complained. "I've never seen this place so crowded before! This has to be a fire hazard, not to mention a building code violation."

"Well, at least we still get a break," Allen said, trying his best to stay positive. And that was hard to do when you had to go and serve horny middle-aged men who thought it was cute to try and grope you as you walked away. He felt like smacking them, but that wasn't very good business. It was so embarrassing, but all of the waitresses had to put up with it.

"That's true," she said, lifting her head up off the table. She sighed. "So what are you doing for Christmas this year?" He gave her a blank look. "You could always come and celebrate with me and my brother! He'd be happy to have you, Allen!" That was true enough: Allen seemed to be the only guy Komui could stand in the same room with Lenalee without supervision. Lavi was only granted that privilege because Lenalee had threatened her brother, telling him not to interfere.

"Lenalee, I can't," Allen said quietly.

"You say that every year," she pointed out.

"I have to work," he persisted.

"On Christmas?" she said skeptically. "Most businesses are closed on Christmas Day, Allen. And it's one day out of the year! Surely missing one day out of three hundred and sixty-five isn't going to hurt you."

"Every little bit helps," Allen said stubbornly.

"Do you not want to come over for Christmas?" she asked after a moment of staring at him speculatively.

"What?" he asked, surprised. "Of course not!" He sighed. "I would love to come over for Christmas dinner, Lenalee, but I really can't afford to. Besides, Christmas is a time to spend with your family, or your lover. It just… it wouldn't feel right."

"Allen, you're practically like a little brother to me," Lenalee said kindly.

"I would be intruding," Allen said, refusing to lose this argument.

Her smile faded as she semi-scowled at him, but he refused to give in. He wasn't going to let himself be manipulated into going to an awkward Christmas dinner with the Lee's. It really wasn't that he didn't want to go. He would love to spend Christmas with people! But he couldn't. That would be imposing on people. And besides… it would be strange. The Lee's were very nice, and it was true that Lenalee was like a sister to him. But they weren't his family. And they never could be.

"Fine," she said, pouting a bit. "Be that way. But I'll get you next year, Allen! Just you wait and see." He smiled at her, but said nothing. For a minute or so, they didn't say anything else. They simply sat and enjoyed their break, absently listening to the news report playing on the TV. It was about some theft at a bank downtown. Allen was just about to pay it serious attention – it wasn't far from where he lived – when Lenalee spoke up. "I wonder what Lavi got me for Christmas," she mumbled.

"Knowing Lavi, it's probably something extravagant," Allen said, quirking up a smirk.

"He does tend to go all-out, doesn't he?"

"That's a serious understatement," he agreed.

"Speaking of presents, why don't you ever let me buy you anything for Christmas?"

His eyes flashed warily as he stared at her, thinking up a good response. "I can't give you one back," he said. It was true that he didn't let his friends give him presents – the whole part of the tradition was that you gave gifts to your friends, who in turn gave you gifts. Since he couldn't give any return gifts, it was only natural that he shouldn't receive any either. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Allen, you don't always have to give a gift to get one," Lenalee pointed out. "And you never get any presents! It's better to give than to receive, you know."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You know, that statement could defend both our arguments," he pointed out, smiling.

"Allen," Lenalee said, scowling at him, "I'm going to give you two choices here. You can either come to Christmas dinner with me, my brother, Lavi and his grandfather, or you can accept a gift from me. I'll even do you a favor and make it myself so that you don't feel guilty for costing me money. But either way, you are going to get  _something_ come this Friday!" She nodded her head once, firmly, as to reassure herself.

"Lenalee-"

"Don't you 'Lenalee' me!" she said before he could finish. "You're too hard on yourself, Allen! Let me do this for you, just this once. I'm tired of you working yourself almost to death and then refusing to let anyone help you. If you don't let yourself be happy every once and a while you're going to make yourself miserable."

He stared at her for a moment and then sighed. "You're not going to let me out of this, are you?" he asked dejectedly.

"Not a chance," she said, smiling.

"Fine," he said reluctantly. "But you had better not spend anything on it!"

"Don't worry," she said, waving a hand. "I know just the thing."

* * *

Kanda was watching the news. Of course, he didn't  _normally_ watch the news. Who wanted to hear about pathetic criminals getting caught and then crying about how horrible their lives were? Or better yet, he didn't want to hear about what new, terrible faux pas was committed by a government official. He hated the fact that everyone held politicians to a higher political standard than regular people, he hated the fact that money could get you out of almost anything these days, and he hated hearing stupid sob stories on TV that he really didn't give a damn about. The logical question then was – why was he watching the news?

He had to watch a TV show for his biology class at seven. Since he wasn't doing anything else, he was watching the news until it was seven and he could change the channel. At the moment, the Discovery channel was currently showing a program about global warming, and quite honestly, he didn't give a flying fuck about how the earth had warmed a whole degree Celsius in the past hundred years.

"And now to our top story of the hour," the news anchor said. She was an attractive blonde woman, her hair tied back into two tails. Her lips glistened with pink gloss that sparkled as she talked. Kanda had always wondered whether or not lip gloss and lipstick tasted bad. He would never try it, of course, but it didn't look pleasant. He wondered why girls went to all the trouble to plaster their faces with makeup. Personally, he preferred most women in a more natural look.

"The McCallister Bank downtown was robbed this afternoon, the culprits demanding a large amount of money," the anchor continued. "Apparently, they were after one of the high-security vaults. Unfortunately, they succeeded in both getting the money and slipping away without getting caught. The security system was found to be defunct after a police investigation, believed to be the work of the criminals. If you have any information on who might've committed such a crime, we encourage you to call the police, or our station's crime hotline. And now, let's check in with Charlie for a weather report."

Kanda muted the TV and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't really care about what Charlie had to say. He didn't really care about the robbery downtown, though it did somewhat surprise him. McCallister Bank was a large bank, the largest in town; all the important businesses had accounts there. The only kind of people who would go after a bank like that were either highly sophisticated or incredibly stupid. Considering the fact that they'd disarmed the security system beforehand, Kanda was led to believe that it was the second.

He wondered absently if this had anything to do with Cross and the brat. Surely a group like NOAH would have the technology to disarm a security system and sneak into a high-security vault. But if Cross was trying to stop them, he didn't seem to be doing too good of a job. He snorted. He had figured as much. Turning to look at the clock on the stove, he picked up the remote and changed the channel before pressing the mute button again.

"And now, we bring you our feature presentation – The Dung Beetle: Nature's Waste Management."

Kanda sighed. Sometimes, he just wanted to to know why.

* * *

Allen picked up his cell phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked. He stepped inside an empty booth by a bus stop, trying to get out of the howling wind so he could actually hear.

"Where the hell are you?" a rude, slightly drunk-sounding, voice demanded. "It sounds like you're in the fucking ocean."

"It's the middle of December. It's windy," Allen pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Why on earth would I be in the ocean? Not to mention there's not an ocean anywhere nearby… I'm just outside walking home."

"Whatever," Cross muttered. There was a pause. Allen assumed he was taking a drag on a cigarette. The man's habits were deplorable. He smoked, he drank excessively, he loved firearms, and women were his hobby. Not to mention he was crude and selfish. There was a special circle in hell reserved specifically for Cross when he finally died. "Did you watch the news today?"

"I saw a few bits and pieces," Allen said, frowning. "Why?"

Cross snorted. "The bank robbery on Johnson Street, brat, what else? It looks like they've decided to move earlier than I planned. You got that piece worked up to speed yet?"

"What?!" Allen asked. "I only started practicing a week and a half ago! I can't learn a piece properly in a week and a half!"

"Have it ready by January," Cross said, ignoring his protests.

"It won't be ready," Allen persisted. "I can't memorize a piece that quickly and have it up to speed."

"Not my problem," Cross said easily. There was another pause. "By the way, how's the rent coming on your apartment?"

Allen blinked. Well, he had certainly not been expecting that. "Why do you care?" he asked suspiciously.

"I don't," the man said bluntly. "But if you get evicted, it'll be a pain in the ass for me because you won't be able to learn this goddamn piece. You aren't staying with me."

"Like I want to," Allen muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Allen said quickly, trying to deter the dangerous glint he'd detected in his master's voice. "I'm… I'm fine on rent. Don't worry about it."

Cross snorted again. "Kid, I would be more inclined to believe Richard Simmons telling me he was straight over what you just said," he said. Allen scowled. "And don't scowl at me." He hated that his Master knew him so well. "Just don't get yourself kicked out on the streets. Major pain in the ass." Without another word, he hung up.

Allen snapped the phone shut and shoved it inside his jacket pocket. He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping to get warmer. It was so cold out tonight! For the thousandth time, he wished that he could afford to buy one of those really nice, expensive coats that kept you warm all the time. He hated winter. He hated that it was so cold – he didn't handle the cold very well – and he hated that everything was white. White was the color of purity. But when the snow got all slushy and gray, it was as if the world was saying that everything that looked pure was truly tainted. He didn't find it settling.

He looked up as another person entered the bus booth with him. "Good evening," the man said. Allen smiled and nodded at him. He was a tall man, with dark, curly hair and curious amber eyes. He watched as the other pulled a cigarette and a lighter from a pocket, and then paused. He looked over at Allen. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No, not at all," Allen said quickly.

"Would you care for one?" the man offered.

"Oh, I don't smoke," Allen replied.

"Suit yourself," the man said. He put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it before replacing the lighter in his pocket. Soon the smell of smoke filled the air. Allen braced himself as a particularly cold gust of wind came through. He wondered why they never made these booths with a full set of walls. There was always just two, three if you were lucky. He'd really like to meet the person who designed these things. He'd give them a piece of his mind.

"Cold night," the other man observed.

"Yes, it is."

"You look pretty cold there," the man said quietly. "Don't you have a heavier coat?"

"Unfortunately not," Allen said, smiling at the other.

To his surprise, the other shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him. "Here, take mine."

"Oh, no, I couldn't!" Allen protested, holding up a hand.

"I insist," the man said firmly.

Allen looked at the man cautiously. It didn't look as if he was going to take no for an answer. Reluctantly, he took the coat and settled it over his shoulders, though he didn't put his arms in the sleeves. It smelled strongly of cologne and… sulfur? That was odd. He sniffed discreetly. Yes, that was definitely sulfur. But why it smell like that?

"Ah, I work in the chemical labs at the university," the man said, noticing his sniffing. Allen flushed a bit in embarrassment at being caught. "That's why it smells like sulfur. I try to douse it in something more pleasant, but I can never quite get the odor out. It's maddening." He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. "I'm Tyki, by the way. Tyki Mikk."

"Ah, Allen Walker," Allen said, shaking the hand the other extended. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, no, the pleasure's all mine," Tyki said. Allen felt a chill go through his body when he heard that. Something about this man set him off. It just wasn't… nice. Of course the man seemed like a decent enough human being. After all, he'd literally given him the shirt - er, coat - off his back. But there was just something about him that definitely did not put Allen at ease. "You out awfully late for someone so young, aren't you?"

Tyki's question pulled him from his thoughts. "I'm nineteen," he said, a touch indignantly. Why did everything always think he was prepubescent? He'd been there, dammit! He had zits, he had hormones! Was there no justice in the world?

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed you were more than fifteen."

"I get that a lot," Allen said flatly. He turned his head when he saw the bus turn onto the street. The both of them moved out of the booth then and waited until the bus stopped. Allen got on first, slipping in his money and taking a seat near the front. Completely unsurprisingly, Tyki sat down beside him.

"Sir, I'll have to ask you to not smoke on the bus," the bus driver said, staring at Tyki's cigarette disapprovingly.

"Eh?" Tyki said. "Oh, fine. You're no fun." He chucked the cigarette butt out an open window. The driver scowled at him, but didn't say anything – after all, the offending stick of tobacco had been eliminated. He turned around and began driving after closing the door. "So, where are you headed to?"

Allen looked up at the man sitting next to him. "Just home," he said quietly.

"You live around here?"

Allen frowned. Wasn't that obvious? He'd just said that he was going home. "Don't you?" he asked instead.

"Nah, I'm just working here for the time being," Tyki said. "In my line of work, you tend to go wherever people are willing to fund you. Right now, that's here. Next week, that could be another city." He ran a hand through his hair. "Who knows?"

Allen fell silent. He didn't really know what to think of this man. Everything about him screamed suspicious, but Allen knew for a fact that it was often the people who  _didn't_ look suspicious who actually were. Appearances could be deceiving. "And you're a chemist, you said?" he asked. "I didn't know chemists had to move around that much." Not that he knew very many. Cross had some background in the subject, but he didn't have any degrees in it as far as Allen knew.

"Then you must not know many chemists," Tyki said, smiling charmingly.

"Not really, no," Allen admitted.

"You said your name was Allen Walker?" Tyki asked after a moment or two of silence. The bus pulled to a stop and more people got on; no one got off. Allen looked over at him as the bus started moving again and nodded. "You wouldn't happen to know a man named Cross, would you?" Allen felt a chill go down his spine. What was going on here? "I once worked with a man named that. He was always going on and on about how he had to take care of a stupid brat named Allen Walker." He smiled menacingly. "He couldn't have been talking about you, right?"

"I would certainly hope not," Allen said, trying to sound convincing. Of course, that hit Cross's personality right on the head of the nail. But Cross would never have worked with this man. And he knew that for a fact. So either Tyki was just trying to get a rise out of him or he was implying that the two had met before. But either way, it seemed to indicate that this man was not someone Allen wanted to call his friend.

Luckily, the next stop was his. As the bus pulled up to the curve, he stood up. "I'm sorry, but this is my stop," he said bluntly.

"Oh, getting off so soon?" Tyki asked, pouting a bit. He stood up anyways. "Oh, well. Have a nice night."

"You too," Allen said, though in all honesty he wouldn't mind if this man got hit by a runaway subway. He quickly shrugged the man's jacket off. "Thank you for letting me borrow your coat."

"Don't worry about it," Tyki said, smiling. "Keep it."

"I couldn't possibly," Allen said.

"Keep it," the man said, more firmly this time. Allen thought about it for a moment, but seeing as how he needed to get off the bus  _now,_ he just went with it. He didn't plan on keeping it. He would throw it out as soon as the bus was out of sight. He didn't need anyone's pity, and this man did not seem trustworthy at all. He nodded once and then hopped off the bus. Tyki waved at him as the bus went on by.

Allen shivered in the cold night air, taking the coat off. Walking along the street, he pushed the piece of clothing into the first trash can that he saw. He could deal with the cold for five minutes.

His apartment building was surprisingly well-lit when he got there. He frowned in confusion. Normally, it was dark at this time of night; most of the residents were already asleep or at work, seeing as how many of them worked night shifts. But tonight, there were quite a few people gathered out on the front porch, talking in small groups. There was even a police car or two stationed a bit down the street, lights flashing. He wondered what was happening. It wasn't rare to see domestic violence or homicide cases in this area of town, but it had never happened in his building before.

He pushed his way through the crowd and inside, where he walked up the stairs. People looked his way as he moved past them before they'd resume their conversations. There didn't seem to be any disturbance on the first or second floors, so he figured it had to be on the third floor – his floor. But of course he didn't think anything of it. There were at least five apartments on the top floor, maybe more; he had never really stopped to count.

It was only when he looked up to open the door to his room when he realized that he really  _should_  have thought about it. There were several police officers mulling around in his living room, looking over the upturned furniture and items strewn across the floor. Allen felt his jaw drop open rather stupidly. He stood there for several minutes until one of the officers noticed him and walked over. "Excuse me, but are you Mr. Allen Walker?"

Allen closed his mouth and nodded. "Yes, that's me," he said shakily. "What… what happened?" He followed the blonde-haired police officer into his living room. It didn't look like any of his furniture had been harmed – thank goodness – but it was all a mess. Several tables were lying on the floor, his couch had been shoved against an opposing wall, and papers and clothes – his laundry, he remembered sardonically – were scattered everywhere.

"Well, it appears as if someone broke into your apartment about an hour ago," the officer continued, looking down at the notes he'd written into a small book. "Your neighbors said that you were at work?"

"Yes," Allen responded absently, staring around with wide eyes.

"Do you know anyone that would've wanted to cause you ill will?" the officer pressed. "Anyone that would want to spite you?"

"Not that I can think of," Allen said truthfully. He didn't really know anyone that hated him. Well, Kanda wasn't too fond of him, but Kanda wouldn't do something like this. It was too… petty. He had a feeling that if Kanda really wanted to do something like this, he would've been more sophisticated about it.

"Was there anything that you had concealed here that was worth any significant value?"

Allen turned to scowl at the officer. "What do you think I am, a crook?" he demanded.

"My apologies," the blonde man said quickly. "But I have to ask according to protocol."

"What's your name, anyways?" Allen asked.

"Inspector Howard Link of the Industrial Valley Police Department," the man said, producing a flashy I.D. badge. "I'm here to see if there's anything that can be determined from the evidence."

"Well, Mr. Link, I think it's rather obvious that I'm too poor to have anything of significant value," Allen said wryly. "And I can't imagine why anyone would break into my apartment. There are even people here who are better off than I am."

"How old are you, Mr. Walker?"

"Nineteen."

"And you live alone?"

"Yes."

"Your neighbors say that you are rarely ever home," the inspector pointed out.

"Well, I have to work three different jobs to keep up with everything," Allen explained. "I'm trying to save up for college."

"A noble ambition. But surely your parents would help you pay for that?"

"I don't have any parents," Allen said softly, walking into the kitchen. It wasn't much better in here. The contents of his cabinets had been thrown onto the floor and the refrigerator door was open. Luckily, his laptop hadn't been taken. He supposed that even a burglar wouldn't want the old piece of crap. He smiled at that; that was probably his most valuable possession, considering Cross would kill him if it had gone missing. It looked like a piece of junk on the outside, but the parts inside had been replaced with much better ones. He had been considering asking for a new one; now, he was happy he hadn't.

"Do you see anything that's been stolen?" Link questioned. Allen half-turned to look at the man over his shoulder. He hadn't realized he'd been followed.

"Not yet," he said. "I keep all my money and my cell phone with me. The laptop wasn't taken, though it  _is_ a piece of junk." He shrugged. "But I haven't seen the bedroom yet." He walked over to the bedroom, pushing the slightly ajar door all the way open. To his surprise, most of the police were in here, taking photographs and picking up evidence with tweezers. The window was shattered – that must have been where they'd broken in.

"Is anything missing?" Link pressed.

Allen looked around. There was his bed… his clothes… the stack of random books… his piano… his music… wait. His eyes flew back to where his piano normally stood. There was the bench… but the keyboard was gone. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he walked over. The indent was still in the carpet from where the stand had been. But there was no keyboard. "Oh my God," he said breathlessly, sinking onto the bench. He had no keyboard. He had no way to memorize the music Cross needed him to learn. He didn't have the means to by a new one. He put his head in his hands and groaned.

Cross was going to murder him.


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as he groaned, it seemed as if all the policemen went into a state of hyper-awareness. "Mr. Walker, what is it?" "Are you alright, Mr. Walker?" "Do you need to go lay down, Mr. Walker?" Overwhelmed, Allen looked up at the concerned faces of the officers.

"No, I don't need to go lay down," he said, rather irritated. "I'm fine, other than the fact that my keyboard was stolen, I need it in January, and I have no way to get a new one."

"Well, do you have insurance?"

Allen looked up at the police officer who'd spoken and scowled. "Do you see this apartment building?" he demanded. He normally wouldn't have acted so rude, but he felt that he had an excuse, seeing as how his life had just been forfeited to Cross, a.k.a. el Grando Diablo. "Do you really think I can afford insurance? I can barely afford to buy socks!"

"Calm down, sir, I didn't mean any offense," the officer said quickly. "It just seemed like the logical question to ask."

"Of course it did," Allen muttered as the officer walked away. He felt very weak and drained. He didn't want to deal with these people. He didn't want to deal with the hovering and the CSI-style forensic science. None of them were as cool as Warrick anyways, so he really didn't want them around. He found himself wanting to just curl up in his bed, go to sleep and hope to God that Cross' memory was permanently damaged so that he never had any recollection of Allen. But of course, that would never happen. As it was, he had to devise a way to get these goons out of his house. He looked up at the nearest member of the badge-wearing buffoons. "Are you almost finished?"

"We've collected a fair bit of evidence, yes," the man replied. "We'll probably take a look at the living room to see if any physical evidence was left there. We haven't found any in here, you see, despite this being the place of entry."

"If you didn't find any by the window, I seriously doubt you'll find any in the living room," Allen said flatly.

"Mr. Walker, I know this must be stressful, but I guarantee you, we are doing our jobs as best as we can, and we are fighting to make sure that we can apprehend this criminal," the officer said patiently, as if he had to explain this to hysterical victims of crime a lot.

"I know," Allen said with a sigh. "But I really don't care right now. Could you please leave?"

"That would be against protocol," the officer pointed out.

"Have I mentioned the fact that I work three jobs and the next shift starts in say… eight hours?"

"I understand that you have a busy schedule, Mr. Walker, but this is a very important investigation, and if you don't cooperate with us, we will not be able to bring the culprit to justice."

Allen scowled. Damn, these guys were persistent! But there had to be some way to get them out of here… In the midst of his desperation, an idea struck him. It was a hare-brained idea, a one-in-a-million kind of last-dig attempt, but he couldn't think of anything else to do at the moment. Obviously these people weren't going to listen to him despite the fact that this was his home. But he wanted them out of here – NOW.

He slowly stood up and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. It was much quieter in here, giving him the ability to hear himself think. He put the seat down on the toilet and sat down. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he slowly pulled out his cell phone. He prayed to God that this would work. Otherwise, he thought he just might go crawl in a hole and die somewhere before Cross murdered him forcefully.

* * *

Kanda scowled as he walked back to the desk standing in the middle of the museum lobby. It had been a trying day at work, to say the least. Some brat had thrown up all over the woolly mammoth exhibit. And of course the janitor was on his lunch break, so Kanda had had to clean up the shit so people could come in the room. He swore that his hair still smelled like the vile brat's regurgitated DNA. And then, to make matters worse, he'd had to chase down some punk-ass loser who thought it would be cool to steal the rare chunk of yellow diamond worth fifty grand. Yeah, real cool.

Heading inside the small, square-shaped desk – which wasn't really a desk, if you thought about it; he had no idea why it was called that – Kanda pushed Lavi out of his way, bringing up his jacket, keys, and cell phone out of the small cubby he was granted.

"Hey!" Lavi said indignantly, catching himself on a corner. "Totally not cool, man!" He pushed himself up and put his hands on his hips.

Kanda glared at him. "Unless you want me to do it again, I suggest you shut the fuck up," he growled, slipping on his coat. He stuck his phone in his pocket.

Lavi snorted. "Seriously, Yuu-chan?" he asked. "No creative but slightly sociopathic threat? I think you're losing your touch." He shook his head.

"You want to test that theory?" Kanda threatened.

Lavi backed away, holding his hands up in a submissive gesture. "No way, man," he said quickly. "I have to keep my A-game up for the ladies. Well, just Lenalee. So only one lady. Because you know I would never cheat on her!"

"Only because you're afraid Komui will chop your balls off," Kanda snorted.

"And you aren't?" Lavi retorted. "You know you're just as scared of him as I am."

"I am not scared of anything," Kanda snapped.

"Suuuuuuuuuure," Lavi said, rolling his eyes. "So I guess that that time when we were five doesn't count."

"No, it doesn't," Kanda agreed.

"You are so in denial, my friend!" Lavi said, smiling sadly. "You know, one of these days, reality is gonna wake up and bite you in the a-" He cut off as his phone started ringing, singing some annoyingly catchy pop tune that Kanda was sick of hearing on the radio. If he heard it one more time, he would tear the damn radio out of his car himself and chuck it out the window. Screw getting electrocuted – it would be so worth it to see the tiny black box plummeting down a cliff to its death at eighty miles an hour.

"Hey-lo!" Lavi said, putting on his country accent. Kanda rolled his eyes. "Allen! What's up, little dude?" There seemed to be some angry muttering on the other end; Lavi just laughed. "Okay, okay, I got it, pal, it's your parents' fault. Blame genetics. I do all the time. So what's up?"

Kanda grabbed his keys in his hands and began to walk towards the entrance to the desk, getting ready to leave. He was so sick of being awake it wasn't even funny. It wasn't that he was tired; he was just tired of dealing with people. People were so… mentally exhausting. Really, they needed to make little tags to pin on people's clothes that would alert the rest of the general public to their idiocy. Maybe he'd get a brand patented.

"WHAT?!"

Kanda paused and looked over his shoulder at Lavi's astonished outcry. The redhead's face was in a state of shock; it wasn't the typical dead-fish Lavi face either. It was genuine shock. Curious now, Kanda stopped and listened to the conversation while pretending to be searching for the right key to his car. Never mind the fact that he only had three keys on the ring.

"Shit, Allen, that's serious!" Lavi said. Kanda seriously wanted to know what was going on now: Lavi actually sounded…  _concerned._ "Did they take anything?" Kanda frowned. Take anything? Screw trying to put up a pretense of not caring; he wanted to know what was going on. Now. He took a half-step towards Lavi; the redhead looked up at him anxiously. "Your piano? I didn't know you played piano." There was a pause. "You need to get the cops away? Why?" He barked out a laugh. "You make it sound like you're hiding something, Moyashi-chan!"

Kanda rolled his eyes. If only Lavi knew how true his words were. Oh, the irony. "Well, I would certainly love to come and help you bash the cops up, but I have to run a few errands for my Grandpa tonight." A bright expression suddenly appeared across his face, his smile devious. "Hey, I know! Yuu-chan's here with me! He'll come help you make the bad cops go away!"

… say what? Kanda raised an eyebrow at the redhead, who was pushing his cell phone towards him. Kanda reluctantly took the phone only to be immediately met with a protesting Allen. "- that's really not necessary! I'm sure Kanda doesn't want to see me anyways! You know how much he hates me, Lavi, and I-"

"How the fuck would you know what I hate and don't hate?" Kanda demanded crossly, effectively shutting the brat up.

"Kanda?!" Allen said. "What – I mean – well, you know… I just… well it's not like you've really disguised your feelings for me!"

"What feelings?" Kanda asked flatly.

"Exactly," Allen said sighing. "Look, Kanda, I'm sorry. I didn't know Lavi was going to give you the phone. Just tell him I'll see him later."

Suspecting that Allen was going to hang up the phone, Kanda quickly spoke up. "Oi, Moyashi," he grunted. "Why are the police at your apartment?"

There was a moment of silence, only the barest background noises coming through. "… it's nothing Kanda, really. Don't worry about it."

"Che, don't flatter yourself," Kanda snapped. "I'm not worried. And you aren't a very good liar. So don't bullshit me. I'll only ask you one more time – why are the cops at your apartment?"

Allen sighed. "Someone broke into my apartment," he said, deflating like a popped balloon. "They're trying to sort things out now, but I really need to get some sleep before I have to work tomorrow. And they won't listen to me and just leave."

Kanda smirked. "Adults don't generally listen to children, Moyashi," he said. "I would've thought you'd learned that by now."

"And since you obviously have so much experience with children, I guess you'll be teaching me etiquette next, is that right, Kanda?" Allen asked, quite exasperated right now. "Look, I'm exhausted and I really don't want to argue with you anymore, so if you're done being an asshole, I'm going to just say good-bye and try to get some sleep in the bathtub-"

"The bathtub?" Kanda asked, appalled. "Why the hell would you sleep in the bathtub?"

"And where else do you suppose I sleep, Kanda?" Allen demanded. "The toilet?"

"Well, you're small enough," Kanda said indifferently.

There was a pause. "You know what?" Allen said coolly. "Just forget it. I don't even know why I'm talking to you. I called Lavi to ask for help, but since he's busy and you are quite obviously the kid who torched ants with a magnifying glass as a kid, I don't really know why I'm still talking to you. So good night, Kanda." And with that, Allen hung up.

Kanda pulled the phone away from his ear, chucking it back at Lavi and turning around without a second glance. "Hey, Yuu-chan!" the redhead protested. Kanda studiously ignored him, walking towards the parking lot. "Be careful! That phone is worth more than you are!"

Kanda stopped and turned to look over his shoulder, sending his co-worker an icy glare. "Worth more than me?" he repeated. He snorted. "I'm fucking priceless, bitch."

* * *

Allen sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes slip shut. It was getting later and later, and the cops still had not left his apartment. He had moved out of the bathroom and was now sitting on the floor by the front door. For a few minutes, he had watched the cops turn over his furniture bit by bit and uncover the evidence. Personally, Allen thought they were being quite stupid. There was nothing here. And even if there was, it wasn't like he could afford to sue anybody. Add in the fact that he had no insurance coverage, and this whole ordeal was really quite pointless.

He frowned a bit when he heard an angry yell downstairs. He couldn't make out words; he just heard the noise. But he didn't pay it much attention. After all, there were fights all the time here. Broken relationships, drug deals gone wrong… it was common in this part of town, unfortunately. It made him sad.

His eyes snapped open when he heard someone stomp down his hallway and then come into his room. Um, did they not know the meaning of the right to privacy? His eyes widened when he realized who exactly was standing in his living room. "Kanda?!" he spluttered indignantly. The dark-haired man turned over his shoulder, smirking.

"Che, idiot," he scoffed. "What are you doing down there? Trying to melt into the floor?"

Allen glared at him before pushing himself up. "There isn't anywhere else to sit!" he snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, my furniture is being harassed! I can't sit down or I'll 'contaminate the area'!" He snorted. "Like I'm an infectious disease or something..."

"An infectious disease?" Kanda asked, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, do tell how this lovely turn of events came into being."

"Shut up," Allen said angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why are you even here anyways?"

"You needed someone to break up the cops," Kanda said simply. He returned his gaze to the living room then. Inspector Link was staring at him suspiciously. "Oi," Kanda called over to the blonde man. "Are you in charge of this?" He motioned to the cops who were now half paying attention to the brewing argument while picking up hairs with tweezers. One man wasn't even doing a good job of keeping up pretenses; he was staring at Kanda, the tweezers in his hand absently grabbing a stray thread on the couch. Allen scowled at the man; his couch had gone through enough abuse today. It didn't need stupid people prodding it too.

"Yes, that would be correct," Link said stiffly, taking a step or two forward.

"Then you're the man I'm looking for," Kanda said, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the man. "Leave. Now."

All movement in the room stopped immediately. All of the cops – and Allen – were now staring at Kanda incredulously. Allen's mind was screaming at Kanda, asking what the hell he was doing. You didn't just tell the cops to get out of your house when they were conducting a search. Link cleared his throat; all eyes immediately shifted to him. You could have cut the tension with a knife, it was so thick. Heck, you could've used a toothpick. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid you have no jurisdiction here."

Kanda's glare only grew more malevolent. "Actually, you'll find that you're the one who has no jurisdiction here," he said coldly.

"Whatever do you mean?" Link said, taking a few steps forward.

"I'm sure you're not stupid enough to have not read the Constitution," Kanda replied.

"I am familiar with the document, naturally."

"Then you know that you're breaking the Fourth Amendment," Kanda said smoothly.

Link blinked. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," he said. "Would you care to enlighten me?"

"I'd be fucking delighted to," Kanda said, smirking. "Under the Fourth Amendment, you have no right to search any private residence without a warrant." He looked around. "I don't see a fucking warrant anywhere."

Link frowned. "Someone called us because we were informed that this building was broken into," he said. "The police hardly need a warrant when we are called to catch a criminal-"

"But do you have a warrant?" Kanda demanded. Link's mouth closed. "I didn't think so. Moyashi here," he jerked his head back at Allen, who scowled at the nickname, "didn't call you to come out. Since it's his apartment, no one but the landlord can let you in. And I doubt the fucking landlord called you. Look at the brat. Do you really think he would give you a warrant? He can't afford to have anything done about this, no matter what your fucking evidence proves."

"Be that as it may, we are half-way through the investigation by now, and it would be foolish to just stop here," Link pointed out.

Kanda took a step forward, glaring down at the man's face now. "Leave,  _now,_ " he said coldly, "or I will make you leave now."

"You must be joking."

Kanda pointed at his face. "Does this face look like it's joking to you?" Allen personally thought that was rather obvious. He had never seen Kanda look so sour and annoyed. It kind of looked like the man had just drunk an entire bottle of prune juice. But of course he knew that Kanda would never drink the vile liquid. To be honest, he probably wouldn't either. "I didn't think so."

"Sir, what relation do you bear to Mr. Walker?" Link asked suddenly, staring suspiciously at Kanda.

Kanda blinked. "Relation?" he repeated. "What kind of a question is that?"

"The kind that requires an answer," Link said flatly.

"I'm his-"

"He's just a friend!" Allen interrupted, stepping forward. Kanda's open mouth closed as he turned to look down at Allen, a surprisingly neutral expression on his face. Allen chuckled nervously. He had interrupted because he hadn't wanted to be even more embarrassed than he already was; he had no control over this situation and to have Kanda call him an idiot or a brat in front of the police wouldn't really make him any happier. "Just a friend." Kanda continued to stare at him for a moment before returning his gaze to Link.

"A friend?" Link repeated. He sighed. "Sir, if you bear no familial relation to Mr. Walker, then you really have no authority to tell us what we can and cannot do. Could you please step outside for a moment?"

"Let me think about that," Kanda said, pausing a moment. "No." Moving forward, he grabbed the closest police officer and violently shoved him out of the apartment. Before anyone could react, the other two standard officers in the living room had been ejected from the room. Allen was staring at the long-haired man with wide eyes. Sure, he knew that Kanda really had no respect when it came to rules, but this… this had to be some kind of offense! Kanda turned to Link. "So are you going to leave, or am I moving you too?"

"I seriously doubt you could do that," Link said flatly. He turned to the officers who had been in the bedroom – they were now standing in the doorway, obviously astonished at Kanda's actions. One was fingering his taser nervously. "Gather up all the evidence you've collected. It is obvious that arguing with this man is going to prove to be completely ineffective." He turned back to Allen. "Mr. Walker, I will have this evidence analyzed and see if any conclusions can be made. If something is discovered, I will contact you."

Allen nodded weakly, stepping to the side as Link and the other officers left the building. After they were gone, Kanda stomped over and slammed the door shut before turning around. Ignoring Allen, he grabbed the sofa and dragged it back to the center of the room before sitting down, crossing his arms and glaring at Allen. "You are so pathetic," he said. "What would you have done if I hadn't been here to help you?"

Allen scowled at him. "I never asked you to come," he retorted. "In fact, I think I pretty much told you the exact opposite." With a sigh, he walked over to a table and picked it up, putting it back near the couch. Without saying anything else to his impromptu rescuer, he began to try and restore some order to his room. The living room wasn't that hard, considering the amount of furniture the room contained. All the while, Kanda just sat there staring at him.

After a few minutes, Allen moved into the kitchen and began shoving pots and pans back in their respective cabinets. To his surprise, Kanda followed him and leaned against the wall. Finally, after a few moments of being awkwardly watched, Allen turned around and glared at Kanda, putting his hands on his hips. "You don't have to stay around if all you're going to do is stand there and stare at me!" he snapped.

"Was anything stolen?" Kanda asked, completely ignoring his previous statement.

Allen blinked. "Why do you care?" he asked defensively, picking up a handful of scattered silverware. Some of the spoons were bent, and the forks were missing prongs here and there. He sighed; it was a good thing he wasn't opposed to embracing his inner Neanderthal and eating with his hands. He opened up the drawer that had previously housed the now mutated cutlery and began sorting it out, putting them into their respective spots. But he was so agitated that he wasn't paying attention to his hands – which were shaking – and cut himself with a steak knife.

He took a deep breath before just dropping the stuff back in the drawer and turning around, moving over to the sink. Turning on the water, he put his finger under the faucet for a few seconds, ignoring the stinging pain. He felt tears prick his eyes, but he was determined not to cry. It wasn't that the cut hurt that bad. This had just been such a frustrating, shocking night, and he was exhausted and still had to go to work in another… five hours. Shutting the faucet off, he moved over a foot and just laid his head on his arms against the counter.

He heard Kanda move out of the room. Well, at least that solved one of his problems; he really hadn't wanted to give the other man another excuse to mock him. But only a few moments later, he once again heard footsteps on the faded linoleum of the kitchen. The footsteps got closer and closer until a hand reached out and grabbed his upper arm. His head shot up, staring at Kanda, who was wearing a rather passive expression.

Kanda didn't stop there though. He pulled Allen out of the kitchen and back into the living room, where he only briefly released him in order to pick up his keys and wallet. He shoved those at Allen before opening the door. Allen frowned; it was only then that he noticed the change of clothes the man had in his hands. "What are you doing?" Allen asked.

"You're a wreck," Kanda said bluntly.

Allen blinked when the man didn't say anything else. "My apartment just got robbed," he reminded the other. "I can't think of many people that  _wouldn't_ be a wreck."

"You look like you're about to have a nervous breakdown," Kanda said, grabbing Allen's wrist again, albeit a bit gentler this time. "And you said yourself that you have to get to work in a few hours." He pulled Allen out of the room, closed the door, and grabbed the key from Allen to lock it.

"Where are we going?" Allen demanded. He struggled a bit as Kanda pulled him down the stairs, but it was obvious that the other wasn't going to let him go anywhere. He got several odd stares from the people in his building as he was dragged down to the front door and then outside. It soon became quite apparent that they were going to Kanda's car, which was parked a bit down the street. Kanda let go of him to get his own keys out of his pocket and walked over to the driver's side. "Are you ever going to answer my question?"

Kanda looked up, mid-way through unlocking the door. "What question?" he asked blankly.

Allen scowled. "Where the hell are we going?"

"Timbuktu," Kanda said, rolling his eyes. "We're going back to my apartment, you idiot, where else would we be going?" He yanked his key out and grabbed the door handle. "Honestly, can you at least try to put on the semblance that you have a brain?" He moved into his car and shut the door, waiting for Allen to get inside. Deciding that he really didn't have a choice, Allen slowly got into the car. And of course, just like the last time he'd driven with Kanda, no sooner had he gotten into the car than Kanda sped away.

"Why are you taking me to your apartment?" Allen asked hesitantly.

"I know your type, Moyashi," Kanda grunted, taking a wild turn onto a side street. "You'll clean everything up, cry, and then not be able to fall asleep because you'll fucking dwell on it all night. Not to mention the sheet you would hang up over your broken window would freak you out when you wake up from dozing in the middle of the night."

Allen opened his mouth and then closed it. Well damn. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Kanda was probably right. But that still didn't explain why  _Kanda_ of all people had come to chase the cops away, and it sure as hell didn't explain why the same Kanda was taking him away to his apartment. "And you care why?" he asked. "You don't seem like the type of person to take pity on anybody."

"I don't pity you," Kanda said, taking another amazingly sharp turn.

"… then why are you taking me to your apartment?" Allen asked, confused.

"Because I don't want to hear you bitch anymore," Kanda snapped.

"I'm not bitching!" Allen protested. "And besides, even if I were complaining, I'm not stupid enough to complain to an apathetic loser like you."

"Say that again and I'll dump you out right here and now," Kanda threatened. "But who you bitch to is beside the point. Eventually, it will come back to me. You tell it to Lavi, and he'll tell it to me. You tell it to Lenalee, she'll tell Lavi and he'll still bitch to me. So whoever you end up whining to, it will come around to bite me in the ass. I'm attempting to circumvent the problem." He turned into an apartment building parking lot then, ending the conversation.

Allen looked up at the building. It wasn't a super high-class place, but it was definitely light years away from his own home. After Kanda had found a spot to park and had shut the car off, he stepped out slowly, still looking up at the building. "Che, quit daydreaming, brat." Well, that snapped him out of his trance-like state. He looked down and glared at the other, but had no choice but to follow him into the lobby and then into the elevator. There was no one else there.

Allen distanced himself as far as possible from Kanda, going all the way into the corner of the elevator. He could feel the other's intense gaze on him, but he didn't say anything. He wasn't really in a mood to talk, especially when the only person to talk to was liable to start some asinine argument with him.

Kanda didn't say anything either, to his relief. When they arrived at the right floor, he just followed Kanda out into the hallway and then down to the right door. The other found the right key and unlocked the door, stepping inside and immediately going out of sight, not even checking to see if Allen followed him. Sighing, Allen walked into the living room, shutting and locking the door behind him – a nervous habit.

He then absently looked around the room. The furniture was simple and in simple colors. There was almost no decoration; there were a few sofas, a television, a bookcase or two and a few end tables with random odds and ends on it. He moved hesitantly into the main area of the room before perching awkwardly on the edge of a couch. He smiled slightly when he felt how uncomfortable it was; but of course, Kanda wouldn't have chosen one of the soft couches that you could just fall back in and fall asleep. His was hard and slightly lumpy.

He looked up as Kanda came back into the room. The other man had changed into a pair of dark blue pajama bottoms and a plain black t-shirt. To Allen's surprise, his hair was down. He hadn't realized that it was that long. Kanda scowled at him. "What are you staring at?" he demanded crossly.

"Nothing," Allen said quickly, looking away. "I just didn't realize your hair was that long."

"Well, now you know," Kanda muttered, coming over and sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. It was comical really, how they always tried to get as far away as possible from the other, no matter where they were. "You can sleep in the guest room tonight. There's an alarm, so just set it for when you need to get up."

"Okay," Allen said, rubbing at his face.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, neither of them talking or even looking at the other. Allen was staring at the Berber carpet while Kanda was staring out the window at the full moon that hung in the air. "They stole your piano," Kanda said suddenly. Allen looked up at the other man, but Kanda was still staring out the window, a nameless expression on his face. Allen couldn't place it all. But then again, he had never in his life met a person as hard to read as Kanda was.

"Yes," Allen said softly, "they did."

"What are you going to do?"

Allen snorted sadly. "What can I do?" he asked. "It's not like I have the money to replace it. I guess I'll just have to… stop playing for a while."

"That's not what I meant," Kanda said. "I meant what are you going to  _do_ about it?"

Allen froze. What… was Kanda saying? It sounded… like the other man knew about what his true value to Cross truly was, what he did behind the scenes. But that was impossible. How could Kanda know that? Sure, they were listed on every underground military group's black list, but those were high security information lists. It would take someone incredibly good at hacking to see… his stomach dropped. Kanda was a hacker. He'd hacked into the university's system files and changed all the answers on the final exams without getting caught. He knew it had worked too because he'd heard all about it on the news, not to mention at Starbuck's – the place was practically the second home to all the college students on that side of town. If Kanda could hack into a university's private files… maybe he could hack into a military group's website.

"You know," he said quietly.

Kanda turned to look at him. "Know what?" he asked. "That you're basically an undercover agent for the government?" Allen cringed when he heard the words actually spoken out loud.

"Please don't tell anyone," Allen said breathlessly.

Kanda raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you think I am, brat?" he asked. "A tattletale?" He snorted. "I'm not going to tell anyone. What you want to do with your life is your business. I don't give a rat's ass."

"Then why do you keep helping me?" Allen asked quietly.

Now it was Kanda's turn to be speechless. He stared at Allen for a minute or two before sighing and looking away. "Hell if I know," he muttered. Allen had to strain to hear the words, but hear them he did. Kanda stood up abruptly. "The guest room's down the hall and to the left. There's a bathroom by it. I get up at five every morning, so if I'm not here when you wake up, don't bother waiting around." He began to walk away.

Allen stood up. "Kanda!" he said. The other stopped and half-turned to look over his shoulder. Instead of saying what he'd meant to, Allen was suddenly stricken by the way the moonlight from the window hit the other man. It wasn't that he was handsome; Kanda's features weren't quite masculine enough to be called handsome. But it wasn't that the other was truly feminine. It was more of a… more of an androgynous beauty. Allen had never really noticed it before.

"What?" Kanda snapped, breaking him out of his reverie.

Allen flushed a bit at being caught staring again. "Um, thank you," he said. "I know you don't really care about me and that you just want to shut me up… but thanks anyway."

He waited for a moment to see if Kanda would say anything back. He looked back up at the other after the silence continued longer than a minute. The other was staring at him. "I never said I didn't care," Kanda said finally. "I said that I didn't want to hear you bitching." Seeming to deem that enough of an answer, Kanda left then, going into his bedroom and shutting the door.

Allen absently wondered why the hell he hadn't had his head bitten off for saying those things, why he'd gotten a response at all. He hadn't truly been expecting one, to be honest. But what Kanda had said had confused him the most.  _"I never said I didn't care. I said that I didn't want to hear you bitching."_  Did that mean that Kanda really did care? He found that incredibly improbable. They weren't even really friends. They had merely been thrust together a number of times due to coincidence.

Slowly, he began to walk to the guest bedroom Kanda had said he could sleep in. And then of course there was the fact that Kanda did keep helping him, despite not being able to come up with a plausible explanation. But what did that mean? He was positive that Kanda didn't like him, but there was nothing to really be gained from using him. After all, it wasn't like he could be held ransom – honestly, Cross didn't give a fuck as to what happened to him. And he didn't have anything of any value. Unless of course Kanda wanted access to government secrets or something. But he found that improbable as well; Kanda just didn't give a fuck. He did what he deemed appropriate, no matter what the situation. Not to mention, what was  _legal._

He didn't close the door to the guest bedroom. He slipped off his hooded jacket and his jeans, leaving him in a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. He climbed into the small single bed before setting the alarm and rolled over, facing the wall. In a matter of moments he was asleep.

* * *

Kanda stared into the guest bedroom at the sleeping form of Allen Walker. Well, it was more of a pensive glare than a stare, to be honest. This was the kid – the  _fucking kid,_ for God's sake – who'd fucked over his mind. For some reason, he kept helping the brat. Him. Helping people. Kanda fucking Yuu helping people. He didn't help people! In fact, some would say that he went out of his way to  _not_ help people.

The idiot was sprawled out on the bed again, his shoulder-length white hair spread around his face like a halo. Add in the fluffy white pillow and he looked like he was floating on a cumulous cloud in the middle of the night. But his face looked different from the other time Kanda had seen him sleeping. He didn't look peaceful, or happy. There was a small frown etched into his sleeping face. It didn't look right to Kanda. It was like a perfect piece of art marred by one thing the artist had overlooked.

He huffed and walked back out of the bedroom and into his own room, where he sat down on the bed. It was close to two in the morning and he was supposed to wake up in three hours, but he couldn't sleep. Once again, it was the stupid brat's fault. That fucking question he'd asked.  _"Then why do you keep helping me?"_ It kept reverberating through his brain, in that innocent, pained voice of his. It sickened him and attracted him at the same time. How was that for odd?

A few nights ago he had wondered exactly what it was that he felt for Allen Walker. At the time, he'd pushed it out of his mind and told himself that he would worry about it later. But now… it was painfully clear that he couldn't wait anymore. He needed to sort this out.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

Allen sighed and sat down on his bed, panting. It had been a few days since his apartment had been broken into, but he'd been so busy with work that he'd only just gotten a chance to clean up. But he was finished – everything was back in its proper place. And the apartment actually looked a bit cleaner than normal, if he didn't say so himself. He wiped the light sheen of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Looking over to the window – whose shattered fragments had been painstakingly taped back into place – he was startled to find it was snowing.

He stood up and walked over to stare outside. Of course, the view was just that of another building, but still. The snow was coming down in big, fat flakes, sticking to the dirty ground below. He couldn't help the silly, childish smile that crept onto his face. He loved watching snow fall. He didn't like how it turned into gray sludge a day or so later, but it was beautiful while it lasted. And after all, it was only fitting that it snowed on Christmas Day.

Lenalee was supposed to come and visit him later, to give him her Christmas present. He really hoped that she hadn't gone out and bought something. He already felt guilty enough just for letting her make him something without being able to reciprocate. Lavi would probably come along too; the two of them were attached at the hip nowadays. But that was later. For the moment, he was alone.

He moved over to the bedside table and opened its lone drawer. Inside were various odds and ends – notes, string, pens, and random sheets of music. But that wasn't what he was looking for. He shuffled around until he found it, closing the drawer behind him. It was just a small picture, faded and a little worn around the edges. He stared down at him, smiling sadly. The man in the picture was smiling happily; a younger version of Allen was sitting on his lap, laughing.

"Merry Christmas, Mana," he said softly. "I don't know how good I've been this year… but I tried." He paused, and then snorted. "I don't really know why I'm talking to a picture, but I seem to do it every year, don't I? They probably don't even celebrate Christmas where you are now." He settled back into the blankets, making himself more comfortable. "I never really liked Christmas. It always seemed so… overdone. I mean… the message behind Christmas is really rather simple. So I don't really get why people go to such extremes to decorate their lawns with a fat old man and sketchy reindeer."

He laid the picture down on one of his knees. "You loved Christmas, Mana," he continued, "But I think that was because it was my birthday too. I remember what you got me, that very first year after you adopted me." He laughed a bit, remembering the silly stuffed bear. "I took it everywhere. After a year, it was so dirty, you made me throw it away. That made me so sad for some reason."

He sighed. "I've made some new friends," he said, fiddling absently with his fingers. "You know Lenalee. She's always very nice, though lately she's been acting really protective. Maybe it's because she's got a boyfriend now. He's nice; his name is Lavi. He's always pulling pranks and doing stupid stuff, but I like him. Sometimes he'll come into the coffee shop, and we'll talk on my break. You would've liked him, Mana." He paused, wondering how exactly to bring up the topic of the  _other_ friend he'd acquired in these past few weeks. "… and then… well, there's this other guy. I wouldn't say he's my friend, exactly… but he has done some really nice things for me.

"His name is Kanda. He gets angry at almost everything; he can be rude, and arrogant, and he's kind of an asshole towards everyone. But he's an okay guy. Heh. He's actually helped me out of a couple of hard places several times… he's a very good listener, you know. Just like you always were." He smiled. "Of course, his answers aren't always so nice. But he always listens." He sighed then and stood up, taking the picture with him. "It's still hard, being without you," he said, laying the picture down on the table.

"I thought it would get easier with time." He shook his head. "But it doesn't seem like that's the case. But still… what's done is done. I can't change it. Merry Christmas, Mana. I love you."

* * *

 

Howard Link sighed as he closed the file. This was just so peculiar. He had thoroughly analyzed all the data on the Allen Walker case, but there didn't seem to be any records at all. There were no fingerprint matches. There were no other significant DNA samples. It was all so very maddening. And then there was the question of Allen Walker himself.

Now, he was a very thorough investigator. He made sure to know  _exactly_ who his clients were when he went through cases; that way, he could better ascertain as to what kind of people would target them. Having no prior information regarding Walker, he'd done some searches. And he was rather surprised by what he'd found.

Of course, there were the normal things – high school records, places of employment, etc., etc., etc. But there were also a rather disturbing number of instances that indicated that the young man was not what he seemed. These types of websites seemed to indicate that he was in some way connected to the government. That, of course, baffled him. Considering the man's living arrangements, it certainly didn't seem like he worked for the government – an employer that was infamous for ridiculously high salaries. It was quite a frustrating puzzle.

"Are you still here, Mr. Link?" He looked up in time to see the police station janitor standing in the doorway. Yes, this was the man known as Arystar Krory; he was quite an interesting individual. He'd gone to a good school and had gotten good marks, but unfortunately, he didn't seem to be able to find any sort of work other than as a janitor. Link found him very suspicious.

"So it would appear," he responded quietly.

"Ah, it's Christmas, Mr. Link," Krory reminded him. "I thought you were only coming in for the morning. Don't you want to be with your family?"

"I live alone," Link said flatly.

"Ah, yes, of course, sir!" Krory said quickly. "I'm sorry!"

"No need to apologize," Link said curtly. "But I would suggest that you do your job and empty the wastebasket, or else you may find yourself without a job come New Year's."

"Of course, Mr. Link, sir!" Krory said, rushing forward to empty the wastebasket, which really wasn't even terribly full. "I'm sorry for intruding, sir!" He tidied up the office in record time before moving on down the hallway, pushing his cart of cleaning supplies. "Merry Christmas, sir!" he called back over his shoulder.

Link stared at the screen of his computer. While that stupid janitor had been dusting the windows, he'd found a rather peculiar website. This one had something to do with someone known as Cross Marian. After he'd read a few paragraphs, he was intrigued. "Yes," he said, leaning forward to stare at the picture of the redheaded man, "Merry Christmas, indeed."

* * *

 

"Merry Christmas, Allen!"

Allen blinked in surprise to find not just Lenalee standing on the other side of his door, but also Lavi and another woman that he remembered vaguely having seen before. "Ah, Merry Christmas to you too!" he said belatedly, opening the door wider so they could all come in. They all crowded into his living room, settling onto the couch while he shut the door. When he turned around to face them, they were staring at him expectantly.

"Sit down, sit down!" Lenalee said hurriedly when he didn't immediately do so. He obeyed, sitting down in the lone chair that was positioned cattycorner to the couch. "So, Allen, I hope you don't mind, but I brought a new friend here!" She acknowledged the brunette woman that Allen  _knew_ he'd seen before. "Do you remember her?" Allen scrunched his face up, trying to remember… but nothing came to him. She was just so very... plain. It made her difficult to place. "This is Miranda! She works at that Japanese restaurant the four of us all went to!"

"Oh!" Allen said, his eyes widening in recognition. "I remember now!" He smiled at the woman, who was visibly nervous. "It's nice to see you again, Miranda."

To his surprise, the woman blushed scarlet, and was unable to get out a response. Lenalee giggled and answered for her. "She's a bit nervous," she explained. "But she's really nice once you get to know her. It turns out that she goes to the same university as us! She's a couple years ahead of us though. She's a graduate student."

"Oh, really?" Allen asked, raising an eyebrow. "What are you studying?"

"Um, a-anthropology," Miranda stuttered. "W-what about y-you?"

"Oh, I'm not in college," Allen said, the smile on his face falling a bit.

Apparently, Miranda noticed the significant drop in enthusiasm in his words, for a mortified look crossed her face. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she said quickly, bringing her hands up to her flaming face. "I didn't mean to say something so rude! Oh, I never do anything right! I'm so sorry!"

"You didn't say anything wrong," Allen said, slightly confused by her antics. For goodness's sake, it was a perfectly normal question to ask. Was she always this paranoid? That had to be exhausting.

"It's okay, Miranda," Lenalee said quickly. She turned her attention back to Allen. "So do you want your present?" she asked happily. Without waiting for an answer, she handed him two boxes, one large and the other medium-sized. He frowned in confusion and looked up at her, about ready to protest that he didn't need two presents from her. "Don't worry, only the small one's from me," she said. "Lavi wanted to get you something too."

Allen looked over to Lavi to see the redhead give him a cheery salute. He couldn't help but smile back. He looked down at the gifts in his lap and then started to open Lenalee's. Underneath the wrapping paper was a small box. He pulled off the lid, and then laughed when he saw what she'd given him. Inside the box were a various assortment of all kinds of candy – there was fudge, cookies, chocolate, hard candy, candy canes, and even marshmallows. He'd always had a sweet tooth, and Lenalee knew that better than anybody.

"I don't know how long that will last you," Lenalee said wryly, "but you wanted something that I didn't have to pay for. I didn't have very many options."

"No, no, this is perfect," Allen said quickly. Lenalee made very good cookies. He didn't know what she put in them – she claimed that she didn't follow a recipe – but they were the best he'd ever tasted. He set the box aside and put the lid back on it. "Thank you, Lenalee."

"Open mine now, Moyashi-chan!" Lavi said excitedly.

Allen smiled and moved on to Lavi's present; the orange, lime green, and fluorescent yellow wrapping paper wasn't done very well, and it was held together with duct tape. It practically screamed Lavi. After he tore off the paper, it revealed yet another box. He frowned as he pulled off the lid. And then his jaw dropped.

"Lavi!" he exclaimed. He looked up, astonished; the other man was smiling at him. He shook his head. "I can't accept this! You had to have spent a fortune on it!"

"Eh, don't worry about it, Allen!" Lavi said, waving a hand dismissively. "It was on sale."

"That's beside the point!" Allen persisted. "I can't give you anything in return!"

"That's not the point of Christmas, Moyashi-chan," Lavi pointed out. "'It's better to give than to receive.' Didn't your mom ever tell you that?"

"Well, yes, but… you didn't have to get me anything," he finished rather lamely. He looked down again at the heavy coat. He had never gotten anything so nice in his life. It wasn't really much, and he knew a lot of people who would be rather annoyed if they'd gotten a coat for Christmas. But he didn't have any coats, and jackets were rather cold in the winter, even when you did layer up. It was a light blue color, and quite fluffy on the inside. He had a feeling that it would be very warm.

"I wanted to!" Lavi said. "You need one."

Allen opened his mouth to disagree, to say that you didn't absolutely  _have_ to have a coat, but Lenalee beat him to the punch. "Allen, don't you dare say that you don't need one!" she said quickly. He looked over at her, surprised. "You do too need one! You're just too stubborn to admit it and let us help you!" In a softer tone of voice, she added. "We're your friends, Allen. You should let us help you."

"But that's not fair to burden you with my problems," he pointed out.

She sighed. "You're not burdening us," she said. "But I don't think I'll ever get that point across, no matter how many times I tell you. So, how's your Christmas been so far?"

"Eh, I haven't really done much but clean up the house," he admitted sheepishly.

"Say, has Kanda come over yet?" Lavi asked suddenly, looking around.

Allen blinked. "Why would Kanda come over here?" he asked.

"Eh?" Lavi asked, looking over at Allen. He smiled in a devious manner, making Allen somewhat nervous. "Oh, no reason."

Lenalee looked askance at her boyfriend, frowning. It didn't look as if she knew what he was talking about either. Well, at least Allen wasn't alone then. "What are you doing for dinner, Allen?" she asked, diverting the conversation back to Christmas.

"I haven't decided yet," he admitted.

"You know, you're always welcome to come with me and Lavi to have dinner with Komui," she reminded him, smiling.

He sighed. "Lenalee, I already told you that I can't come over for dinner."

"Is it because of the yams?" she asked suddenly, a completely serious expression on his face.

"Um… " Allen trailed off, not sure of exactly what to say.

She sighed. "I tell him every year that no one likes yams, and yet he still makes them. And then he burns them, and there's nothing worse than the smell of burnt sweet potatoes. Except for maybe tar. Or nail polish remover." She shook her head.

"Ah, no, it's not because of the yams," Allen said. "I don't mind yams."

"So you'll go then?" Lenalee asked, perking up immediately.

He sighed again. "I never said that."

She pouted a little. "You know, Allen, one day, I am going to convince you to come over for a holiday dinner," she said. "Honestly, a little food can never hurt you, especially when you're so thin! And I know, I  _know_ , that's just how your metabolism works, but that doesn't change the fact that your BMI is disgustingly low."

"How low we talkin'?" Lavi asked curiously.

"Like nineteen!" Lenalee said hotly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What's yours?" the redhead asked.

Lenalee scowled at him. "Did you seriously just ask that?" she demanded.

"What?" he asked innocently. "It's not like I asked when you had your last bowel movement."

"Okay, way too much information," she said, holding up her hands. "Moving on!"

Allen chatted with the rest of them for another half an hour or so before they had to leave for Christmas dinner. He could've sworn that every other sentence contained an attempt to get him to go with them, but he fended off the attacks as best as he could. When they were gone, he sighed and moved his presents into the kitchen. To be honest, he hadn't been expecting Lavi to get him anything. He was a little miffed that he couldn't afford anything in return, but the very fact that his friends hadn't even cared about that was really quite touching.

He looked over at the clock on the stove. It was getting close to four o'clock. He had better eat something fast then if he wanted to get to work on time. For some reason, there always seemed to be an abnormal amount of people who went out to eat on holidays. You'd think they'd want to spend the time with their families, but apparently not.

He walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He absently stared out the window onto the street below. The snow was still falling, albeit the flakes were much smaller now. There was about an inch on the ground. It was very beautiful. A little ways down the street, there were children playing, making snowmen and having snowball fights. He smiled; for some reason, seeing happy people always made him smile. A woman getting out of a car right in front of the apartment caught his attention. She was carrying a long, slender package. He wondered absently how she was able to heft it around so easily. Of course, he didn't think women were weak, but surely that had to be heavy!

He turned away then, wiping his hands on a dishrag before heading over to the refrigerator. He frowned when he saw that he didn't have much. Well, that wasn't accurate. He had plenty of food – but it was all random stuff that didn't go together. Like cabbage and ketchup. And mayonnaise and carrots. No, thank you. But there did look to be enough beef to make a pot of stew. It would've normally fed a family of six – which was just the right serving for Allen, of course.

Just as he brought the beef out and set it on the counter, he heard a rough knock at his door. Frowning in confusion, he walked over into the living room and opened the door. His confusion only doubled when he saw Kanda standing there, his bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead. "Kanda… ?" he asked quietly. "What-?"

"I hate it," Kanda interjected. "I fucking hate it, Moyashi."

"My name is Allen," Allen said, frowning at the other. "But what are you talking about?"

"Even though I attempted to circumvent the problem, I still have to go to work and hear Lavi bitch and moan at me all fucking day long," Kanda explained angrily. "'Moyashi-chan must be  _so_ sad right now! He needs our help, Yuu-chan!'" Allen would've laughed at Kanda's falsetto imitation of Lavi, but the serious look on the other's face made him think that if he did, he would be decapitated. Kanda didn't seem to be in a good mood. "Do you know how fucking annoying that is?! I already have to deal with brats toying around with the exhibits and perverts going into the girl's bathroom 'by mistake'!"

"I'm… sorry," Allen said flatly. But he hadn't  _really_  complained to Lavi after the break-in. Or even Lenalee. After hearing what Kanda had had to say, he'd simply avoided talking about it in any detail. Of course, his friends had worried. He'd given simple, one-word answers. He hadn't been trying to cause Kanda any grief.

"You're fucking sorry," Kanda muttered, shaking his head. "That's not even the worst of it. You and your goddamn piano! I swear to fucking God, if I hear one more thing about that fucking piano, I am going to go batshit crazy, call it a day, and die!"

That startled Allen. Kanda wasn't serious, was he? But he didn't have any more time to think about whether Kanda was being metaphorical or not; the dark-haired man shoved a large package into his hands. He almost fell over, it was so big. It clicked in his brain then that the "woman" he'd seen carting the huge package up the stairs must've really been Kanda. He flushed, hoping the other would never find that out. If he did… well, perhaps it was time Allen drew up a will.

"What's this?" he asked, staring at the package. It was wrapped in the plainest brown paper ever – it wasn't even wrapping paper. It was that paper they used to wrap boxes at the post office.

"Merry fucking Christmas," Kanda snarled, storming into the living room and slamming the door behind him. He almost threw himself down on the sofa, staring out the window with a glare so heated, Allen was surprised it didn't melt the glass. After Allen just stood there, holding the item, for a few moments, Kanda snapped at him, "Well, open it, goddammit! Don't just stand there like an idiot!"

Allen rolled his eyes. "Oh, forgive me if having a homicidal lunatic storm into my home and hand me a present startles me a bit," he said sarcastically.

"I am not a lunatic," Kanda said, clenching his jaw.

"Well, you're not making a very good case for yourself, are you?" Allen asked, smirking at the other. Kanda's scowl just grew deeper, if that was even possible. Deciding to open the package, he moved to sit down in a chair. Settling the thing between his knees, he started at one end of the package and worked his way until all the paper was off. He then flipped it over so that the top was facing him. It fell to the floor with a thud when his jaw dropped for the second time that day.

It was keyboard. Of course, it wasn't the nicest or the most expensive one out there. But it wasn't a crappy-ass one either. It was even…  _new._ Normally, the only things Allen bought new were food and underwear. But this… he looked up at Kanda, his eyes wide in shock. "You… " his voice didn't seem to be working right.

Kanda was scowling at him, although the cleft between his brows had lessened a bit. "Can't even form a coherent sentence," he muttered. "Loser."

"You bought me a keyboard," Allen breathed out.

"I'm tired of hearing everyone bitch about it," Kanda explained. "If this doesn't shut that Lavi up, I'll personally carve out his vocal cords and tie them in his hair like ribbons."

"That's rather disgusting," Allen remarked, chuckling a bit. "But Kanda… "

"Don't you dare cry on me," Kanda said warningly. He pressed himself farther into the couch, as if he was afraid that Allen really was going to start crying.

"I'm not going to cry!" Allen said indignantly. "I'm not four!" He huffed once in annoyance before staring down at the musical instrument. "But Kanda… you bought me a keyboard." He shook his head. "You have no idea how much this means to me." 

"Oh, don't tell me you're a sap, too," Kanda snapped, slapping hand to his face.

"You really just saved my life."

"It's just a piano, you stupid bean," Kanda reminded him tartly.

"You of all people should know why music is important to me," Allen said quietly. "If I haven't learned a piece of music for Cross by January, he will quite happily murder me on the spot. I thought that that was inevitable, but now..."

"Is that all music is to you?" Kanda asked. "Part of a job?"

"No, of course not," Allen said quickly; images of Mana were brought to his mind. "Music is… music is what defines me." Kanda didn't have a retort to that, so he continued. "It can be happy, or sad, or a complex blend of emotions… I've always had music, from when I was… oh, never mind." He laughed nervously. "I'm getting all sappy, as you put it." Kanda just grunted in response. He thought of something then, and paused. It probably wouldn't fly with Kanda, but…  "Say, Kanda… would you like to stay for dinner?"

Kanda's head jerked over to stare at him, cocking an eyebrow. "What?"

"Dinner," Allen said slowly. "You know – food, nourishment, twelve essentials vitamins and minerals -"

"I know what dinner is, brat," Kanda snapped, cutting him off. "Why would you invite me to dinner?"

Allen flushed a bit. "Well, it's the least I can do," he said quietly. "It's not like I can pay you back, or give you anything in return." He fiddled absently with the hem of his shirt, waiting for Kanda to curse at him and tell him that he'd never in a million years ever accept a dinner invitation from Allen Walker of all people – the Moyashi, the brat, the punk, the  _fucking bean._

"Only if you quit looking like a kicked puppy."

Allen's eyes snapped up in surprise.

"What's with that look?" Kanda asked him warily.

"I… I didn't think you'd actually agree," Allen said, too startled to think about what he was saying.

Kanda rolled his eyes before standing up. "Just go cook," he snapped. "I'll take this into your room."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Allen said, standing up as well. He watched as Kanda easily hefted the piano box up and onto a shoulder as if it was a ragdoll.

"Like you could move this, Moyashi," Kanda smirked. "You're so weak you probably couldn't lift a sack of potatoes."

Allen scowled at the other's man back as he walked into the kitchen. He yanked open the drawer that contained the knives and started cutting up the meat that was still on the counter, imagining that it was Kanda's hair. Just when he finally started being nice... he ruined things by being himself. Dammit Kanda! When he was finished, he threw it all into a large pot that he pulled out of another cabinet and let it simmer.

Next came the potatoes and carrots. He chopped them up quickly before checking on the beef. It was finished cooking by now, so he added a can of broth and some water into the mix, along with the vegetables and a few select spices. He vaguely wondered why Kanda was taking so long. He pulled a spoon out and stirred the mixture around; his stomach growled in appreciation. He turned the heat down a bit and put the lid on before turning around.

To his surprise, Kanda was standing in the doorway, looking at something in his hands. He looked up at Allen. "Moyashi," he said, holding out the thing, "Who's this?" Allen looked at the item in the other's hands; it was the picture of him and Mana that he'd left on his bedside table. He normally would've been slightly pissed off to know that anybody had asked about something so personal, but Kanda was different. Allen already knew his past; he supposed it was finally time the other learned his.

"That's Mana," Allen said, smiling faintly.

"Mana?" Kanda repeated, raising an eyebrow. He looked back down at the picture.

"My adoptive father," Allen explained. "My parents abandoned me when I was three years old, after my arm… well, after it transformed into this. I don't know if they couldn't afford it, or were too disgusted by it to keep me. I lived on the streets for a few years until Mana found me and took me in."

"What happened to him?"

Allen waited a moment before answering. "He died," he said flatly. "There was an accident."

Kanda was silent. When he spoke again, it wasn't the words Allen was expecting. "Did he teach you how to play the piano?"

Allen looked up briefly at the other's face. It was surprisingly… inquisitive. Of course, Kanda's emotional range was practically the width of a teaspoon, so the expression wasn't quite the normal exemplar of a curious face. But considering that this was  _Kanda,_ Allen figured he'd just go with it. "Yeah," he said, turning to lift the lid on the stew. He picked up the wooden spoon and began to stir it. "He was a clown in a circus in London, but he also played many different instruments."

He heard Kanda sit down at the table behind him. The stew was getting there. "How did you meet Cross then?"

Allen snorted. "Sometimes I wish I hadn't," he admitted. "He found me sitting in the cemetery near Mana's grave a few days after he'd died and just kind of picked me up. I was only eleven then. And of course, then he had me carted off over Europe, taking me to places no kid should ever visit and racking up enormous debts with his penchant for gambling." He scowled. "Stupid womanizer."

"Che, sounds better than my adoptive father," Kanda said, snorting.

Allen put the spoon down and looked over at Kanda. "I didn't know you had an adopted father," he said.

"How else do you think I got here?" Kanda asked, rolling his eyes. "He found me in Japan and brought me back here."

"What's he like?"

"He's overemotional, sensitive, a crybaby and more dimwitted than a pile of rocks," Kanda said flatly.

"Was he the old man at the restaurant that one time?" Allen asked, thinking of the first time they'd met.

"Unfortunately, yes," Kanda said.

"He seemed nice to me," Allen said lightly.

"You didn't have to live with him for fifteen years."

"… I suppose that's true," Allen said, shrugging. The conversation lapsed as Allen finished cooking the stew and Kanda fell into a brooding silence. After about ten minutes, Allen turned off the stove and pulled down two mismatched bowls, one very large and the other normal-sized. He filled both, and set the normal-sized one down in front of Kanda. He handed the other a spoon before retrieving his own dinner.

They ate in silence. Kanda had paused after the first bite, as if considering whether or not it was palatable. Allen ate quickly, as usual, and managed to finish in less than ten minutes. There was no stew left in the pot. It was one of his better batches, if he did say so himself. Normally he ended up burning some part of the food. He sat back in his chair as Kanda took the last bite.

"So… " Allen prompted. "How was it?"

"It was horrible," Kanda said bluntly.

Allen scowled at him. "If you didn't like it, you didn't have to eat it," he said, standing up and putting his bowl in the sink.

"It wasn't that bad," Kanda amended. "It's horrible in that it's not something I would normally eat."

Allen sighed and looked back over his shoulder. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to learn how to make Japanese food then, won't I?" He smiled briefly before moving the pot into the sink and then going to retrieve Kanda's bowl. Kanda stood up and walked into the bedroom; Allen followed as soon as he'd cleaned the dishes. He found Kanda sitting down on the piano bench. He'd set the keyboard up already, and was staring at the keys as if he wanted to play something, but was too afraid he'd mess up.

Allen took the photograph of him and Mana that he'd retrieved from the countertop and put it back on its table. "You know, just staring at the keys isn't going to make them move," he said sardonically.

Kanda scowled up at him. "I can't play," he said flatly.

"It's not hard, once you learn," Allen explained. He moved over and cautiously sat down on the bench beside Kanda. Thinking of a song he hadn't played in a while, he let his fingers drift over the keys as the slow notes of the song began. "You just have to get used to it."

He fell silent as the music got more and more involved, letting himself get absorbed in it. He could sense Kanda beside him, staring at his fingers intently as they moved. The piece wasn't particularly hard or fast, so his fingers could afford to drag a little as he slipped them across the ivory and ebony notes. He let the final chords hang in the air when he was finished.

"What was that piece called?" Kanda asked when he was finished.

"Clair de Lune," Allen responded, "by Debussy."

"You seem to like sappy, romantic pieces," Kanda pointed out.

Allen scowled at him. "Well, it's not like there's a lot of hardcore, intense piano music out there," he pointed out. "The piano is a romantic instrument."

"Yeah, whatever," Kanda said. He paused before standing up. "I need to leave. I'm supposed to go visit my idiot family for Christmas."

"At least you  _have_  a family," Allen said reproachfully.

"I don't know if even you would want these morons," Kanda said flatly.

"How would I know?" Allen asked. "I've never really met them."

"You met them at the restaurant."

"Yes, but they thought I was a girl then," Allen pointed out.

"Whatever," Kanda said. "I'm done arguing with you."

Allen followed Kanda to the door. He felt as if he should say something kind, but this was Kanda. What was he supposed to say? Kanda opened the door and was half-way out before he turned around. "Oi, did you ever call that doctor I told you about?" he asked.

Allen blinked. "No, not yet," he said. "I haven't gotten a chance."

"He's open tomorrow," Kanda said, looking away. "He rarely has patients the day after holidays. You could probably walk in and get to see him."

"I don't think I have to work tomorrow," Allen said slowly. "I'll do that." Kanda nodded. Allen waited for him to turn around and leave, but when he didn't, he let a smile cross his face. "Merry Christmas, Kanda."

"… are you expecting me to say something in return?" Kanda asked, raising an eyebrow at the expectant look on Allen's face.

"It's only common courtesy," Allen said, frowning a bit.

Kanda snorted. "Happy Kwanza."

Allen's frown deepened. "I don't celebrate Kwanza," he said.

Kanda started walking away then. "I know that," he said over his shoulder. "I don't celebrate Christmas."

"So you celebrate Kwanza?" Allen asked, confused.

"I don't celebrate much of anything," Kanda said, turning to stop at the head of the stairs. Allen blinked at him. Kanda sighed. "Merry fucking Christmas, Moyashi." Before Allen could say anything else, he started heading down the stairs.

Allen smiled and withdrew into his apartment. Well. This had certainly been one of the most unexpected holidays of his life. "Were you here today, Mana?" he asked quietly. He looked over to the window; the snow had picked up again. "It looks like things may be picking up for me."


End file.
